


Light and Dark, Intertwined

by eyeslikeonyx



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anxiety Attacks, Fantasy Violence, Graphic injuries, Graphic medical procedures, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Masturbation, Mythical Beings & Creatures, National Hockey League, Pining, Sex Magic, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Violence, hockey violence, light vs dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-07 01:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11612889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikeonyx/pseuds/eyeslikeonyx
Summary: Sidney Crosby is special for many reasons. His most notable are his unbelievable hockey abilities and the fact that he is a Warlock. The Warlock part is not as well-known, which is perfectly fine with him. If people from the Mystic World know what he is, panic will ensue. He has made it this far without people finding out. Maybe no one will ever have to know?Everything is foolproof until a monkey wrench in the form of a Russian hockey player escaping his home country and coming to Pittsburgh is thrown into the mix. Now is the perfect time to panic a little.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a fantasy universe that I have been working on for about a year now, and I decided that I am going to test it out here in a fanfiction work while I am currently facing writers' block for my novel. Feedback is always welcome, and I hope that all of you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it! :)
> 
> I will post warnings at the end of each chapter so that people are prepared for what is to come. If there is anything that I might have missed in the warnings, please let me know!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins in 2005 during the NHL Draft, so everything is going to be in some form of chronological order. Sort of. Bear with me here.
> 
> Warnings at the end of the chapter.

Sidney Crosby is buzzing where he stands on the stage, holding his new black and gold Pittsburgh Penguins jersey in front of the many men and women in the crowd and behind the camera lenses and flashing lights. He has finally achieved his lifelong dream of becoming an NHL hockey player. It's all he has ever worked for, and all of the resilience—all of the blood, sweat, tears, and injuries that nearly destroyed his dream—has paid off. He smiles so much it hurts, but he doesn't care. His hazel eyes scan the crowd until they land on his mother, Trina, and his little sister, Taylor. This has been a busy, bittersweet month for their little family. Sidney has been drafted first overall to the Pittsburgh Penguins, and Taylor learned her first spell as a Water Nymph just two weeks ago. Light sparkles around Taylor and her mother as they clap enthusiastically for him. He thinks of the spells that she will have to learn on her own, and how he will have to leave the Mystic World behind and fully engross himself into the lifestyle of Humans. He is thrilled, however, over the prospect of finally being what he never thought he could.

Sidney Crosby can finally be away from the cruel glares of the people that hated him as a child. He can he long gone from the world that has never once felt like home. He has always been weird, standing out amongst the other children without even meaning to. The Humans know him for his hockey; the Mystics know him simply because of his family and the rumors that plague their name. At least the Humans speak mostly about his hockey than him as a person. He can do this. He can live the life that he truly wants now. He can play hockey, the one thing he loves almost as much as his family. He can live in a place where he feels at ease with himself. He knows that he is going to be living with Mario Lemieux’s family in Pittsburgh, and they are fellow Mystics as well. Mario himself has Giant blood, and Nathalie is a Snow Fairy. They have graciously allowed Sidney a place in their home, in their lives. This is the fresh start he has always wanted.

Sidney is way more excited than he can handle.

* * *

“Welcome to my home, Sidney!” Mario Lemieux— _ the _ Mario Lemieux—exclaims cheerfully as he, Sidney, and the four Lemieux children step through the threshold of the massive, all-brick home belonging to one of the greatest hockey players in NHL history. Sid is only carrying one of his bags; the young kids are helping with the other two suitcases and his gear bag with all of his necessary hockey equipment. Sid murmurs a quiet "whoa" under his breath and the high ceilings and dark hardwood floors in the foyer hidden beneath a stunning patterned rug. The house is gorgeous. His mother would love this place.   
  
“Daddy, can we show Sid his room?” Alexa, Sidney remembers as the youngest of the rambunctious clan, asks with an almost pleading look in her big doe-like eyes. Her blonde hair turns snow white before Sid’s eyes, and he is nothing short of amazed. Mario rolls his eyes fondly as his other three children give him the same look mimicking their sister.   
  
“Sure, go ahead.” He sounds so put off by the question, but his grin gives away his true feelings. Sidney is about to trail after the kids when Mario rests his hand on Sidney's shoulder. Mario is an aging man, already having retired once before deciding to come back to play the game he loves, and Sidney can see the exhaustion in his face. He is very tall, easily five or six inches on Sid, and he has to crane his neck slightly to look Mario in the eye. Mario also happens to have a small engraving of a pickaxe subtly poking from underneath the sleeve of his shirt. The pickaxe is the symbol of the Giants, the species of Mystics that have the strongest bloodline in the world. It is easier to blend into society with Giant blood than almost any other race of Mystics. Sidney doesn't say anything about the mark. He waits patiently for Mario to speak. “When you get done unpacking what you can, I want you to meet me and Nathalie by the fire pit in the backyard. There's some ground rules that we want to go over with you. Nothing too strict since you're almost an adult, but house rules nonetheless.” Sid can only nod and thank Mario before jogging up the stairs to his loft area. The kids have already taken the liberty of unpacking some of his stuff for him, and he can't help but to laugh at them as they try to figure out where to put everything. He decides to let them all go ahead and unpack his stuff. It’s not like he has anything to hide. And he can sort it all out later. He does, however, kick Austin and Stephanie out of his bathroom so that he can take a shower and change clothes.   
  
As he stands in front of the mirror, he eyes the simple gold chain hanging around his neck, and he touches the crystal tentatively. He breathes slowly in and out through his nose, watching as the charm hanging off of the chain expands and shrinks with his breathing. Even after having this necklace for most of his life, Sidney can't say that he is used to watching it physically breathe with him. It serves to remind him just how abnormal he is. He already knows that he is not normal according to Human standards. His blood, however, only makes him even more special among his own people—or, to put it more accurately, a threat.   
  
Sidney closes his fist over the crystal pendant, feeling the magic pulse heavily in his palm. He watches the flashes of gold and black in his reflection as the steam fogs the mirror. He's going to have to take the necklace off at some point to give his energy some room to breathe soon. It's been almost two months since he let himself go. He is definitely going to have to do it before training camp starts. Who knows if he'll have time when the season comes in full swing?   
  
Sidney blinks a couple of times as he strips off all of his clothes and steps in the shower. By the time he is done shaking his dark, wet hair out with a towel, the kids are nowhere to be found in his loft.   
  
_ His _ loft. In Mario Lemieux’s  _ house. _ __  
  
Sidney changes into a clean pair of swim shorts and a white tank top since the kids kept talking about going out to the pool today. He knows that they're going to want him to come and play with them in the water, and he is personally ok with that. What he is not prepared for is the inevitable discussion with Mario and Nathalie. He takes a deep breath before exiting the loft and going back downstairs to see the kids running toward the pool outside, shrieking gleefully at being in the water. They all seem to be living fairly normal lives. None of them have any markings to identify with yet, not even Stephanie, who is nine, and Lauren, who is twelve. He knows how brutal the Mystic World can be. It's why he chose the Human World over them. He walks outside to see Mario and Nathalie smiling lovingly at their children, and Sidney almost feels like he's intruding on their already big family. He has managed to keep his guilt down this long, which is a miracle in of itself. It was just a matter of time before he felt like he was taking up everyone else's time and that his abnormalities are noticeable. He should really considering finding a new billet family—   
  
"Sidney! There you are!" Nathalie Lemieux calls happily. Sidney lets his thoughts cease as Mario's wife motions for him to come sit with them. There is an extra lounge chair waiting for Sidney and he hesitantly sits on the edge of his seat, his hands folded in his lap. He shouldn't be nervous. Mario and Nathalie already seem to like him well enough. He just doesn't know how they're going to react when they learn of the other piece of truth that most people have no clue about. In actuality, only four living people know about Sid's true blood. He wants it to stay that way, but he suspects that the Lemieux's might need to be informed. It's only fair since he is living in their house. He sits and waits nervously but patiently. Mario is the first to speak.   
  
"I promised your mother that I would look after you since we're a part of the same world. She told me that she would feel much better if you were living with fellow Shadowhunters. With that, I have very simple rules in regards to living in this house. Rule number one:  we expect you to help out around the house. Doing your own laundry, helping clean and keep everything at least partially organized, helping with dinner, et cetera. Basic stuff. Any issues with any of that?" Sid shakes his head no. "Ok. Good. Rule number two:  no strangers coming to our home without our explicit permission. This is the same rule for all of the kids, so this isn't us singling you out. Just let us know ahead of time if you have someone come over that we don't know personally." Sid nods thoughtfully. That's a pretty easy rule to follow. Nathalie crosses one leg over the other, and Sidney can see a small snowflake symbol engraved into the outer part of her ankle. He wants to ask about it since he's never met a Snow Fairy before, but Nathalie is already speaking.   
  
"Rule number three:  Mario and I want you to feel comfortable here. You are a part of this family now, and we will treat you as such. With that being said, we want you to be honest with us. Trust is a necessity in this family. We hope that you can confide in us with anything because we want to be able to trust you. So, if there is anything that Mario and I need to know, it might be best for you to tell us now. Don't worry. We won't judge." Sidney breathes deeply, feeling the pendant breathe with him, an indifferent weight on his chest neither unwelcoming nor appreciated. Just a reminder of who—what—he really is. He rubs his clammy palms against his shorts and tries to gather the right words to say. He needs to explain this in the most precise way he can. He cannot mess this up. His life—his mother's life—depends on it.   
  
"There is—one thing that I need to tell you guys," he words carefully. Mario and Nathalie are watching him closely, ignoring their children's shrieks and splashes as they play in the pool behind Sidney. Sidney bites his bottom lip and thinks of where to start. "Do you two remember, about eighteen years ago, when rumors went around the Mystic World about a child who was allegedly born with both Light blood and Dark blood? That the child was most likely a Warlock?" The two adults stiffen and sneak a glance before turning back to Sidney.   
  
"How could we forget?" Mario remarks with a humorless chuckle. Nathalie takes her husband's hand. "The High Arc, when we were still a part of it, had search parties hunting that baby down. Everyone was so convinced that a Warlock had been born. No one knows what the High Arc wanted with the child, but many Mystics believe that they were going to either murder the child or use it as a weapon. Knowing what High Arc is capable of and how much power they have, especially back then—" Mario sighs sadly. "I would have rather the child be dead than be molded by those disgusting excuses of Mystics, Light or Dark. And they weren't even sure that the baby existed. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. They had no proof, only a spoken claim by a Light Mystic that has long since been exiled for being a traitor." Sid almost wants to cry with relief. At least he knows now how Mario feels about the High Arc. His nerves ease up enough to let Sidney continue to speak.   
  
"Well—those rumors?" His breath stutters. "They're true. There really is a living, breathing Warlock." Nathalie blinks at Sidney's words. Mario just waits patiently, like he knows what Sid is about to say next. Sid closes his eyes, swallowing down the lump resting in his throat. He opens and closes his mouth three times before finally saying what needs to be said.   
  
"I'm the one that the High Arc wants. I'm a Warlock.”

Sidney braces himself for the onslaught of vicious backlash, maybe even a summoning of the High Arc, but he looks up again to see Mario and Nathalie staring him, both shocked and sympathetic. Then, something flashes in Nathalie's eyes—almost like determination, a motherly fierceness shining around her. It startles Sidney, being able to feel Nathalie's emotions as vivaciously as he could always feel his mother's. Maybe it's just a maternal instinct thing? But then he can feel Mario's equally strong emotions fly around him. Sid can sense the anger and protectiveness that Mario is unknowingly displaying for him. It's a little overwhelming for Sidney, but it's also comforting. He can trust these people.   
  
"Who else knows about you?" Nathalie asks quietly so that the kids don't hear.   
  
"Only three people that are still alive know about me," Sidney replies honestly. "My mother, my sister, and the Witch who gave me this." He lets the pendant rest in his palm. Mario and Nathalie eye the pendant with furrowed brows but watch intently as Sidney and the crystal breathe in and out together. Nathalie's jaw drops.   
  
"My God," Mario murmurs, frozen where he sits. Sidney deposits the necklace back into his t-shirt.   
  
"It's a magical charm that this Witch, Manara, gave me when I was a kid," he explains.   
  
"Manara Malik? The leader of the Manhattan Coven?" Mario asks incredulously. Sidney nods.   
  
"Her last name is Nurse, now. She ended up marrying a Human who was forced to birth a Witch child several years ago."   
  
"I vaguely remember hearing about that," Nathalie chimes in. "We know Manara. We actually consider her a friend, of sorts. Or maybe just more of an ally. But she's one of the few good Witches and Wizards left." Sidney can't help but agree with Nathalie. Manara has warned Sidney countless times of how so many of the Witches and Wizards are not as nice as her and to be wary of any and all Warlocks that cross his path unless they are friends of hers.   
  
"She's helped me so much since I was a child. When she gave me this necklace, it was meant to be a way to protect me. It helps keep my magic from sporadically shooting off. I have to wear it at all times, or else my energy will grow until it's uncontainable. That's only ever happened once when I was about five, and my mother made sure it wouldn't happen again. When I started becoming more involved with Humans and my energy was growing too quickly for any of us to keep up with, Mom and Dad called Manara and asked her to help figure out a way to keep my magic in check without causing any damage. This crystal was her solution. It's helped me a lot through the years, and I can't go without it. It's a part of me." He shifts the crystal between the pads of his fingers.   
  
"Do you ever take it off?" Nathalie asks.   
  
"Sometimes, so that the magic can have some room to flourish and breathe. Whenever I know I'm going to have a significant amount of time to myself, I take out the spell book that Manara gave me as a gift and practice some spells. Nothing major. Just strong enough spells that can be reversed and help burn off the magical energy in me."   
  
“Will you need to take it off any time before the season starts?” Mario chimes in.   
  
“I haven't taken this thing off since winning Juniors, so definitely before training camp starts. The energy is growing every day. Used to, I only had to take it off once or twice a year, but now it's closer to once a month. Manara warned me that this would happen, and that my powers would grow exponentially after my eighteenth birthday.” Sidney pauses and watches the Lemieux's faces, waiting for them to say something, but they stay silent. Their emotions are completely neutral as well, so that doesn't help Sid either. Sid swallows. “I mean, it won't cause any significant problems and it's not going to hurt anyone because of my powers growing. At least, that's what Manara has told me. She said that since I have the crystal, I have more control over my magic impulses. So nothing bad will happen to either of you or the kids. I understand how that can be a little scary, especially with the kids nearby. I just felt it was the right thing to tell you both the truth about how powerful I may end up becoming.” Sidney knows he's rambling now, his nerves getting the best of him. Mario leans forward and rests a large hand on Sidney's knee.   
  
“Hey, we're on your side here, Sid,” he quickly assures the teenager. “Nathalie and I don't associate ourselves with the High Arc for a reason. After everything with the Cleansing fiasco and so many former rebels joining the High Arc—we couldn't stand to be a part of that organization anymore.” Sidney remembers the Cleansers and the havoc they wreaked on the Mystic World. They murdered so many Mystics of the Dark, trying to “cleanse” the world of the evil so many of them possessed, and they never cared who their victims were. Sid remembers his mother and father doing their best to protect him and watch over him for fear that someone would discover the truth about Sidney’s Warlock status. A child of Sidney’s rare, mixed blood, in the High Arc’s eyes, is considered a high offense against the Mystic World. Warlocks are very rare but hold more power than any other Mystical being that exists. They are also very unpredictable, which makes them dangerous. They are not Mystics of the Light nor of the Dark. They are a class of their own and, therefore, a danger to the already fragile Mystic society. A child like Sid in the Cleansers’ eyes is even more harsh than any other race of Mystics. Cleansers were a radical group with no remorse. Many members now are either dead, in prison, have vanished, or have since joined the High Arc in lieu of betraying their fellow rebels. Some believe that the highest members are still out there, waiting to come back and finish the job. If they got a hold of Sidney, it would surely be the end. Sidney tries not to shudder at the thought.

  
“The High Arc should have never made any deals with members of the Cleansers and let them have any power in our government.” Nathalie bites out, startling Sidney out of his train of thought. Her bitterness is apparent, but he stays quiet. “Should have just sent them to the Low Courts while they had the chance.”   
  
“Well we all know that the President was never entirely opposed to the Cleansers’ beliefs,” Mario mumbles angrily. “She would have never let them go before the Low Courts, no matter how much the Mystic World wanted them all to burn.” His eyes turn soft again as he looks at Sidney. “I know that this is a big deal for you, but Nathalie and I appreciate you telling us the truth about you being a Warlock. We will do whatever it takes to keep you safe from harm. This must have been hard for you to admit to us, but Nathalie and I want nothing but the best for you. We want you to be able to trust us, like we trust that you won’t let anything happen to the kids.” Sidney turns his head and looks back at the four children still laughing and playing in the pool. His heart sinks as he thinks about Taylor, knowing that he isn’t even able to protect her because of how far away he is from her. He desperately wishes that his family was here in Pittsburgh with him. Maybe, when he moves out of the Lemieux’s house, they can come live in the States with him? It’s his deepest wish to protect and keep his mother and little sister from harm.   
  
But he has his new family to think of now. Mario and Nathalie are here to help him in any way that they can. Lauren, Austin, Stephanie, and Alexa are his new honorary siblings that he has to look after now. This city is his new home. He knows deep in his heart that this is where he belongs. This is where he will stay.   
  
“I won’t anything happen to any of you,” Sidney proclaims while still watching the kids. He turns back to Mario and Nathalie and grins. “You guys are already doing so much for me by letting me live here and keeping my identity a secret. Protecting all of you is the very least that I can do. I will never be able to repay you both.” Nathalie beams and takes Mario’s hand in hers once again. Mario nods once and smiles small himself.   
  
“You will always be part of this family,” Mario promises. Sidney believes him.

* * *

In August, Sidney’s eighteenth birthday rolls around. He wakes up feeling the same as he does every morning since moving to Pittsburgh:  sore, tired, and never feeling completely clean of all the sweat and grime from training and workouts. The only difference between this morning and any other normal morning in the Lemieux household is that Sid has four faces staring at him with a chocolate-frosted cake in their hands, waiting on him to actually wake up. He raises an eyebrow and slowly sits up, the kids never taking their eyes off of him. Then, like Sid expects, the cake is being quickly shoved in his face, followed by a round of laughs and honks from the kids.   
  
“Happy Birthday, Sidney!” Lauren, the oldest of the Lemieux kids, yells. All four of the children scream-sing the Happy Birthday song as Sid slowly wipes some of the frosting away with his fingers from his eyes so he can open them properly. When the kids finish singing and see Sid’s stony expression, their grins quickly dissipate. Austin loudly gulps while all the girls hide behind him. Sidney raises his hands and slowly pries his fingers apart, the chocolate frosting spreading and separating. He curls his fingers and lets out a loud roar. The kids scream loudly and scamper off of the bed as quickly as they can. Sid leaps out of the comfort of his duvet and chases after the kids, picking up Alexa without the use of his hands and smearing the frosting over her face.   
  
"Ew! Sid! You're getting chocolate all over me!" she yelps as Sid blows a raspberry on her cheek. She laughs and pushes at Sid's chest for him to let her go. He puts her down and goes after the other three culprits. By the time he has caught all four of the kids, they all have varying degrees of chocolate frosting and chocolate cake covering their faces and pajamas. Nathalie and Mario sleepily come down the stairs to see what all the commotion is about and laugh heartily at the sight of all five kids covered in chocolate. Nathalie grabs her camera off the mantle over the fireplace and snaps pictures of the chocolate children.   
  
Nathalie cooks a real cake for Sidney while the kids are all showering off the chocolate and promises a family dinner with him that night for his birthday. He thanks them all for the birthday cake before retreating back to his loft. He eyes the spine of the spell book resting in his backpack and decides that today might be a good day to let his magic flourish. He takes the book and sits in the middle of the floor of his spacious room. He takes off his necklace and immediately feels the magical energy surge through him like electricity. He shudders at how euphoric it feels. Colors around him are brighter, smells are easier to pinpoint, and his hearing intensifies. It still amazes him when his magic vibrates through him after being cooped up for long periods of time. He carefully lays the necklace out next to him and snaps his fingers to flip his spell book to a page of spells to cast. He smiles to himself. He really does love getting to actually practice his magic. It feels so natural, like hockey. Actually, it feels more centering to him than hockey in some ways. He charms the room to become soundproof and rubs his hands together happily.   
  
It's time to have some fun.   
  
Sidney spends several hours just letting his magic fly around him. He rearranges some books on his desk and changes the colors on his walls a couple of times before settling on the original navy blue. Then he cleans his room and moves his dirty clothes in the wash, has the soap and softener put in as well, and washes his clothes—all without even moving from his spot on the floor. He does some more minor spells on his belongings before deciding to stretch his legs out. He can sit in one position for so long. He steps into his bathroom and stretches his arms over his head, squeezing his eyes closed in focus. He sighs happily when he lowers his arms and opens his eyes to look at himself in the mirror. His smile falters when he sees his reflection.   
  
Sidney's magical abilities are not the sole reason he bears the necklace Manara gave him.    
  
Solid black eyes stare back, taunting and familiar. Minuscule veins are horridly visible around his eyes, and his skin is ghostly white. His sister used to run in fear at the sight of him when she was a toddler. He never forgets why. Sidney hates the real way he looks—no glamours or spells to hide the monster he is. It's just a permanent, ugly reminder that, despite how incredible his powers are, they are a curse. Mystics like him are nothing more than a parasite that must be eliminated when given the chance. He tries to never look at himself when his necklace is off. He turns away from the mirror and walks back into his room, looking around at all of the magic he has conjured since locking himself up after breakfast. He wishes that he could be proud of himself, but his confidence is long gone. He waves his hand carelessly and closes his spell book, sending back to his desk. He's had enough practice for one day. Just as he reaches for his necklace to put back on, there is a knock on the door.   
  
"Sid? You busy?" Mario's voice calls through the door. Sid probably wouldn't be panicking if his necklace was actually where it's supposed to be.   
  
_ Fuck. _ __  
  
"Just a second!" Sid shouts back as he runs around the room, throwing stuff around and trying to figure out where the hell that little fucker went. He snaps his fingers in an instinctive move, but all it does is swing the door wide open to his room, and Mario is standing in the doorway, bewildered. Sidney whips his head around to look at Mario before turning away just as quickly. But the damage has already been done. Mario definitely saw his Warlock mark.

"Sid—"   
  
"I can't find my necklace," Sid interrupts, his voice high from his anxiety rising. "It was sitting by my spell book and now it's gone. I—shit,  _ I need it." _ His breath is picking up speed and his nose is burning. He really needs to find that necklace right now.   
  
"Sid, it's okay. I'll help you find it." Sidney jumps away when he feels Mario's hand on his shoulder. He knows that Mario would never hurt him or say anything about his Warlock mark, but he just doesn't want anyone seeing him like this. Very few people already have, and none of them have been pleasant reactions. Sobs from his little sister still haunt him.   
  
"You don't have to—"   
  
"Sidney." Sid's muscles tense at Mario's use of his full name. He slowly turns around to properly look at Mario, who is watching him calmly and carefully. It's that fatherly look Mario gives his children when they're upset or angry, giving them a chance to center themselves before falling apart. Sid feels vulnerable under Mario's gaze but says nothing. He lowers his eyes to stare at his bare feet. "We will find your necklace. You probably just accidentally hid it when playing around with all your spells and stuff." Sid blushes and is hindered from asking Mario how he knew what Sid was up to. Mario chuckles. "You turned my sofa white and pink at some point a couple hours ago, and then you turned it back to normal. The kids got a kick out of it. They were hellbent on coming up here and having you test your magic on them." Sidney's shoulders visibly lose some of their tension as he laughs with Mario.   
  
"Maybe I will at some point," the teenager says thoughtfully. "But I need to find my necklace first." Mario grunts in agreement, and they split up to look through Sid's loft. Fifteen minutes of searching and Mario shouts from walk-in closet that he found it. Sid jogs into the closet and sees the black and gold crystal hanging from one of his dress shirts. He sighs in relief but pales when Mario reaches forward to grab it. "Don't touch it!" Mario jerks his hand back like he's been burned and Sidney rushes to his side to make sure his mentor was not hurt.   
  
"Sid, why can't I touch it?" Mario asks with a raised brow.   
  
"The necklace burns anyone who isn't either me or Manara," Sid explains, still checking Mario's hand. It looks unscathed, but it's better to be safe than sorry. "Since it holds my powers and everything, it would be dangerous if the wrong person has it. I could be forced under someone else's control if they're able to possess it." Sid feels Mario's emotions swirl around him, shock and paranoia being the strongest of the two.   
  
"Jesus, Sid," he breathes. Sid sighs sadly.   
  
"Manara is pretty sure that no one is able to do it, but you can never be too careful." He grabs for his necklace and puts it on. His magic quickly fills until it is fully simmered and below the surface. He can feel his raised skin shrink back down and the colors around him almost immediately subdue themselves. He heaves a breath like he just skated three hours' worth of practice drills.   
  
"You ok over there, bud?" Sid nods.   
  
"'M good," he murmurs. "It just takes a lot out of me, is all." Mario nods in understanding. They exit the closet and stand in the bedroom again.

"I have a lot more questions that I need to ask you, but I actually came up here to tell you that we're leaving in an hour for your birthday dinner."   
  
"Thanks, Mario." Mario smiles close-mouthed and heads for the door. He stops in the doorway and turns back to Sidney.   
  
"You know that I don't mind you practicing your magic around the house, right? You don't have to wear that thing all the time. Besides, you're not the most terrifying Mystic I have ever encountered." Mario gestures at Sid's necklace. Sid watches the necklace expand and shrink with his breathing before looking back at Mario.

_You're not the most terrifying Mystic I have ever encountered._ The words should not comfort Sid as much as they do, but he feels so much better knowing that he has people who know what he is and are not afraid of him.  
  
"It won't weird you or Nathalie out?" he asks hesitantly. "Even with—" He points to his face shyly. Mario smiles sympathetically.   
  
"Not at all. Just let us know so we can warn the kids to stay out of your way." Sid doesn't deserve the Lemieux's. He really doesn't.

"Well, I may actually take you up on your offer and let them be my guinea pigs." Mario laughs at that and shakes his head.   
  
"Maybe after dinner or sometime tomorrow. I'll leave you alone to get ready. If we're not out of here on time, Nathalie will skin me alive."   
  
"Yes sir."   
  
Mario shuts the door behind him, leaving Sidney alone again to get changed for dinner.

* * *

A few days pass, and Sidney can feel his power quickly growing.   
  
He calls Manara and lets her know what's happening with his powers, like she always tells him to do after his birthday. He explains how his magic feels almost uncontrollable. He was so frustrated at practice earlier that day that he almost melted all of the ice in the rink. He also recalls how his natural energy is higher than ever, which is making his hockey game better than it has been.   
  
"I don't think it's all necessarily worth worrying over, Sidney," Manara says kindly. "You're still growing up. Don't forget that you're only eighteen years old. This is an age where your magic will flourish the most."   
  
"I don't need it to flourish, Manara," Sidney whines. He is on the landline phone in the Lemieux kitchen while everyone else is out of the house. The kids are either with their friends or hanging out at the rink with their parents for optional skate. Mario had told Sid to take the rest of the day off after the ice almost melting incident, much to the teenager's dismay. How is he supposed to play hockey if he can't even keep his powers from fucking around on him? He wears the necklace, so it should help. "I need to get my powers back under control so that I can play hockey." Sid can hear Manara take a deep breath over the phone.   
  
"I knew I should've just convinced your parents to live with me so that you could learn," she laments. For once, Sid finds himself agreeing. When he first received the necklace, Manara had told Sid's mother and father time and time again that it would be best for Sid to live with a Witch so that he could properly learn to control his powers. They wouldn't listen. Trina Crosby was adamant on her son having as normal of a life as possible.   
  
_ "Sidney will never be normal," _ Sidney remembers the Witch saying to his parents when he was four.  _ "He is of both Angel and Demon blood. He is much more powerful than any other being on this earth. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable." _ Looks like the inevitable has arrived just in time for Sidney to be starting his NHL career. Timing is a bitch.

"Well, it's too late to wonder what could've been," Sid snaps. "I need to get this shit under control, especially before the preseason starts. The team is depending on me."

"I know, Sid," Manara all but growls. Sidney can't help the hot shame creeping up his reddened face.

"Manara, I'm sor—"   
  
"I know," she murmurs. "I'm sorry, too. I should've just listened to my gut all those years ago and done what was best for you. Except the past is the past and now I'm trying to think of a way to help, but you're pressed for time, which makes me pressed for time."   
  
"Isn't there a spell or something that I can learn so that I can try to keep my magic subdued?"   
  
"That's what the necklace is for. The only problem is that the necklace was never meant to be permanent. It was only supposed to last for a few years until you finished learning the basics that you needed to function in society. I still wish I could yell at your father for screwing you over like this. If he was alive right now, he would be facing my wrath." Sidney would probably do the same thing if he was in Manara's position. She's done so much for him and his family, and his father pretty much milked her for all her magic to make Sid come off as much of a Wizard as possible. That knowledge has never sat well with Sid. Despite how much he loved his father, he wasn't exactly a stand-up guy, especially when it came to Mystics of the Dark.   
  
"So how do I control it?" Sid asks.   
  
"The best thing you can do right now is let your magic find a sense of equilibrium—without the necklace. It's going to take a lot of work, but if you start now, you can have your magic under control in time for the preseason to begin. I know how much hockey means to you, Sid, and I want nothing more than for you to have your life be as painless as possible; but you have to be able to handle your magic on your own. And it's going to be hard. But if you don't get a hold of your magic, then these incidents are going to keep happening."   
  
"But where do I start?"   
  
"Start by gradually winging yourself off of the necklace. But when you take it off, make sure it's both nearby and locked up safely."   
  
"You make it sound like my necklace is like a monkey on my back or something." Manara startles out a laugh.   
  
"Good God, you've been around Mario too long." Sid smiles fondly over the phone because, yeah, it's still a little surreal that he's living with  _ Mario Lemieux _ and that he gets to hang out with  _ the Mario Lemieux _ every day. "I'm being serious, though, Sid. You can't let that necklace get in someone else's possession, especially while you're withdrawing from it. Your body and your magic are very codependent on it, and withdrawal is a very vulnerable time."   
  
"I'm not going to have all those horrible symptoms, am I?" Sid asks, suddenly nervous.

"You shouldn't, but it's hard to say. You're the only one of your kind who has ever done this; therefore, I don't know how your body will react. I wish I was there to help you through all of this, but having a soon-to-be preteen Witch child is first priority to me." Sidney grins.   
  
"How's Derek doing, anyway?"   
  
"Oh, he's great!" Manara exclaims proudly despite how tired she sounds. "He's finally nailed controlling his magic when around Humans. And he just made first string defense on his club team."   
  
"That's awesome! You think he'll keep it up?"   
  
"I hope so. Hockey helps keep him out of trouble. The last thing I need is a nine year-old Witch causing mischief in Manhattan of all the places. Sometimes I feel like I have to keep him on a short leash."   
  
"He's a kid. Of course he's going to be up to no good." Manara chuckles.   
  
"I know. And I love him all the same." Sid knows that it is impossible for Warlocks to reproduce—a fact that he has come to grimly accept—so to hear Manara so happy with her little family gives him some hope. He will never have children that will share his hazel eyes or his dark, curly hair, but they will most certainly have his unconditional love.   
  
"I really am happy for you, Manara," he says softly. "I'm glad you got the family you always wanted." The leader of the Manhattan Coven sighs happily.   
  
"Me too, Sid." Sid is about to continue talking when he hears the front door open and an older voice speaking angrily in French. Sid startles when the door loudly slams shut, shaking the house slightly.   
  
Mario is home.   
  
"I'm gonna have to call you back," Sid whispers into the phone. "Mario's in a bad mood."   
  
"All right," Manara replies. "Keep me updated on your progress. I'll let you know if I can find another Witch or Wizard to help you with your powers." They say their goodbyes and Sidney hangs the corded phone back on the wall. Mario's voice gets louder until he finally reaches the living room.   
  
_ "You promised me that you had it handled," _ the older man snarls into his cell phone. Sidney knows that he is not the one under Mario's scrutiny, but it's terrifying to see him angry all the same. Sid has seen Mario frustrated on the ice, but this is different. Mario is way past angry. He's pissed. "Why would you fucking lie to me?  _ You promised that we could bring him here before the season started!" _ Sidney's brain is practically whiplashing with Mario switching between English and French, but he does his best to keep up. "Listen to me. This isn't some game of chess. A boy's life is at stake!" There is a long pause, and Sidney waits patiently as Mario sighs in aggravation.  _ "If we don't get him to the United States, he may end up dead. I promised him that I would get him out of Russia, and I plan on keeping my word." _ Another pause. "Call me when you get more details." Sidney hears the flip phone snap shut and Mario breathe through his nose angrily. So many questions are reeling through his mind.   
  
Who was Mario talking to?   
  
What was Mario talking about?   
  
Who is his mentor trying to get out of Russia?   
  
What the hell is going—   
  
"I know you're in the kitchen, Sid."

Mario's fatigued voice breaks Sidney out of his thoughts. He swallows down the lump lodged in his throat before meekly walking into the living room. Mario looks as exhausted as he sounds. His broad shoulders are slumped; his graying hair is curling wildly around his wrinkling face. Sid is starting to see Mario's age really stand out. He has always had a youthful glint in his fading looks, but Sid sees none of that now. Mario gives him a stern look, one that he has never seen before. It's almost like it is specifically for him.   
  
"Whatever you heard," Mario warns in a low voice, "forget about it. Understand?" Sidney is frozen in fear where he stands. Even though he could easily transform Mario into a fork with a snap of his fingers, Sid respects his mentor and captain way too much. Instead, Sid quickly nods his head. Whatever Mario is up to, it's obviously dangerous if he doesn't want anyone to know what he has planned. And clearly it involves Russia somehow, definitely someone who's Russian. Maybe it's another hockey player? That would make the most sense. There’s quite a few Russian hockey players in the NHL, but there's not a lot of super young ones that are around Sid's age. The only one that really stands out to Sid that isn't in North America right now is because Russia supposedly forced him into a contract that he didn't want. And he's supposed to be a Penguin, Sid thinks. He was the second draft pick behind Ovechkin. What was his name again? Malkin? Oh, right! Evgeni Malkin!

_ Holy shit. _

Mario is trying to get Evgeni Malkin— _ the _ Evgeni Malkin—to escape his home country to come to the United States. That's, like, almost treason in some ways.  _ Fuck. _ No wonder Mario doesn't want anyone getting involved. Sid is about to turn around and make a beeline for the kitchen when he lets the question fly out of his mouth.

"The person that you're trying to get from Russia:  it's Evgeni Malkin. Isn't it?"   
  
"Sid—" Mario sighs.

"It's just a question." Mario's eyes soften in sympathy and exhaustion. It’s all the confirmation that Sid needs.

"I don't want you getting involved in any of this, Sid." His voice is much softer now. "So please, just—stay out of it. You have hockey to focus on." He doesn't even wait for Sid to reply before he turns around stalks up the stairs to his study. Sidney huffs quietly when he hears the door to the study open and close quietly, a sharp contrast from the same man who barged through the cherrywood door to the house just minutes ago.   
_  
_ _ Right. Stay out of it. Do not get involved in any way. _

Sidney wishes that he could, but he can't. Not with so much at stake. Mario could lose everything, even face hard time.

And Malkin—Malkin will never leave Russia again. He may even be arrested as well for treason and thrown into prison for life. Russia is nowhere near as forgiving as the United States or Canada. Malkin will be counting his blessings if he gets to see the light of day.

Whether Mario likes it or not, Sid is going to help in any way that he can to get Evgeni Malkin to the United States. He has to.   
  
Somehow.

* * *

Over the coming weeks, Sid's magic grows but also becomes more centered. Sort of. Manara was not joking when she said that there was a lot of work that needed to be done. She had managed to call a fellow Witch friend who lives in Philadelphia—of all the places—to come and help Sid with his magic. David (pronounced Daveed, Sid remembers) is a brash, older man who speaks like he stepped out of the Victorian Era. According to Manara, he's at least 600 years old and was alive to watch the nightmare of the Protestant Revolution, which, in his humble opinion, "didn't solve a damn thing." He looks no older than thirty and is originally from Jerusalem. He was once the leader of the Damascus Coven until the 1700s when he came to the British Colonies to get a fresh start away from the prying eyes of the people around him. He has stayed here ever since.   
  
Sid enjoys having David around. He is a very good teacher, and Sid loves all of the amazing stories the High Warlock of Philadelphia tells. Mario lets Lauren and Stephanie stick around to watch Sid practice his magic with David, and they always end up getting to have spells practiced on them. Stephanie tried so hard to convince her father to let her keep the pink hair, but Mario held his ground.

Sid has also done as much research as he possibly can on helping Evgeni Malkin get out of Russia. He knows that Ovechkin and several other Russian players aren't going through the same complications to get out of their home country. Hell, Ovi pretty much ripped up his contract and walked out without so much of a fight. So what makes Malkin so special? Sid knows that Malkin’s hometown hockey club needs something to revive their team and make them good again. Sid manages to snag a few tapes of Malkin playing and is—impressed. Sid knows that Malkin is good—he has to be if Mario is desperately trying to get him to the States—but he didn't expect to see the power behind every play that Malkin makes on the ice. His skill and talent is not like normal talent that Sid has seen; Malkin is a breed of his own. No one can touch him. He's unstoppable.

Sid is about five or six videos in when he sees how Malkin checks someone so hard, the camera practically rattles with the force. Sid flinches as we watches Malkin smash another player’s head into the glass and break it. What the hell caused that kind of reaction? Sid rewinds the tape and plays it back to watch for what he missed. During the replay, he sees both players practically ganging up on one of Malkin’s teammates. He pauses the tape and zooms in on the boys. One of them looks like they are saying something taunting to the smaller teenager. The other one just looks at him like he's a four-course meal. Something is definitely off about this. Sid looks a little more closely and sees the hungry-looking player’s symbol on the side of his neck. The two dark dots sitting closely together is enough to help Sid draw a conclusion.

Those two boys are Vampires.

Sid knows that Russia has a very large Mystic population, especially Dark Mystics. Lots of Vampires, Werewolves, and several other species of Mystics that are mostly seen at night. So it's no surprise that some Mystics play hockey over there. Not as many play in North America for fear of the Human media picking up on their subtle differences. Malkin attacking those two opposing players makes a lot more sense now. That draws the conclusion to Sid that Malkin must be a fellow Mystic too. Which one he may be, though, is hard to tell unless Sid sees his symbol. Maybe he will one day if Malkin actually makes it out of Russia?

As Sid watches these players on the tape, he realizes that Mystics clearly play an intricate part in sports over in Russia. They are all over the ice. He spots two Wood Nymphs, a few players that seem like Werewolves, and several other Vampires. The boy that the Vampires are harassing has steam rolling off of his body—the sign of an angry or scared Fire Nymph. When Sid presses play on the video, that is the moment when Malkin comes in for his attack. It's brutal but now justified amongst the Mystics. However, the Human refs eject Malkin from the game and force him off of the ice. The seething anger in Malkin’s eyes makes Sid shudder and his groin throb. He stops the tape and turns off the television, taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to compose himself. That look on Malkin’s face as he was being escorted back into the locker room— 

Sid is fucked if he ever meets and gets to play hockey with Evgeni Malkin in person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of past genocide of part of a race of people and racial supremacy, minor mentions of racism, and a character dealing with an impending anxiety attack in a stressful predicament. If I miss anything, message me and let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at the end of chapter. Feedback is always welcome! :)

The preseason passes without incident. When the season comes in full swing, Sid has gained almost full control of his magic’s sporadicness. Withdrawing from the crystal is hard, and sometimes it leaves Sid nauseated and tired, but progress is being made, and that is what matters. Of course, slip-ups happen from time to time, but that's normal. At least nothing serious has happened yet.

Then he plays against the fucking Flyers.

“I thought you promised you were going to keep your cool?” Mario scolds Sid after the second intermission. They're in a trainer’s room where Mario has ice on his shoulder. He's most likely out for the rest of the game, and it's partially Sid’s fault. On the inside, Sid has a hypothetical tail between his legs, but on the surface, he has his shoulders rolled back like he's going to square up against his captain.

“You think I didn't try?” Sid snaps. “Sometimes my magic has a mind of its own! What else do you want me to do?”

“You can't just hex an opponent because they said something that pissed you off, Sid! You have to ignore that shit! And you can't yell at the refs when things don't go your way! You're better than that!” Sid knows he's better than this, but he's honest to God ready to just turn the entire fucking Flyers lineup into a bunch of carrots and cut them into little pieces and eat them for breakfast. “You have got to keep a good head on your shoulders.” Mario's voice is softer this time around. “We need you out there on the ice, not stuck in a penalty box. You understand?”

“Yes, sir,” mumbles as he stares at his skates and fiddles his thumbs.

“Good. Now get back out there and try to at least force them into overtime.”

They lose in overtime, but at least it was a hard-fought game. It'll take the Penguins four more losses before finally winning against Atlanta. The team goes out to celebrate that night, and Sid tries to not drink as much as everyone expects him to. The plan fails, though, as Army shoves the fifth—or is this the sixth?—shot in front of him. Sid is not about to come across as a chicken for not taking the shot, but as soon as he tips his head back, his whole body burns. He slams the shot glass down, and his head is spinning unpleasantly. His vision seems hazy, but he tries his best to stand up and find Mario. He needs to get home. Of course, Max tells him that Mario has already headed home, but that he was willing to help get Sid back home in one piece. He does manage to make it all the way to the Lemieux’s entranceway before regurgitating all of his food into the bushes. He's going to have to clean that up in the morning, but he doesn't have the energy to do it right now. Hell, he barely makes it through the front door without tripping. He is about to quite literally crawl upstairs when he hears Mario’s and Nathalie’s voices down the hall. Sid furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he follows their voices. He stops walking when he hears them talking behind a closed door leading to the game room. He is about to knock on the door when another voice joins their conversation, and nothing sounds pleasant. In fact, Sid can feel the tense energy coming from his billet parents beyond the door. He struggles to hear what they are all saying, so he lets yellow sparks fly from his hands as he intensifies his own hearing.

“Mario,” an unfamiliar woman’s voice begins saying, “I know that you and Nathalie have had issues with the High Arc in the past, but—”

“But nothing,” Mario sneers. Sid’s heart stops. “We don’t support the fact that you let members of the Cleansers become intricate parts of the High Arc. That move was questionable at best. It was the icing on the cake for why we are not a part of the High Arc or the Mystic World anymore.”

“We left for a reason, Colleen.” Nathalie. “We don’t want to be a part of a group that wants nothing but to destroy an entire race of people. We are not superior to any Dark Mystic, and we don’t condone that kind of superiority and violence with our children. We have worked very hard to keep our family safe, and that will not change. I'm disappointed that you decided to stay and side with these monsters.”

“You claim to want to keep your children safe and yet you have a Dark Mystic living in your home,” the woman, Colleen, accuses. “He's a Witch, right?”

“Leave Sidney out of this,” Mario growls darkly. Sid can feel the spike of rage and _holy shit, Mario’s pissed._ “His name should never come out of your mouth.”

“Are you threatening me, Lemieux?”

“I warned all of you to stay the hell away from my family and stay out of my life. You really think that Nathalie and I are going to do anything you bastards say? You have no control over us. We are not a part of the High Arc anymore, and we would like to keep it that way. We are not your little puppets. Now do us a favor and leave. This was meant to be a discussion in helping a fellow Mystic facing clear and imminent danger, not an offer to make us do something that we have no pleasure in partaking.”

“You can’t speak for your wife. Nathalie, can’t you talk some sense into your husband?”

“Mario knows that I have my own thoughts,” Nathalie snaps. “And he and I will not join your erratic manhunt for the Warlock child just because we've asked for your help.”

 _Shit._ That sobers Sid up quickly.

“We know that the Warlock child exists,” Colleen insists, “and we need to find them.”

“At this rate, the child is most likely an adult, and they would've been found by now,” Mario argues. “The High Arc’s obsession with finding the Warlock is borderline psychotic, and there has been no proof of the being’s existence.” They're lying through their fucking teeth, and Sid wishes he could feel grateful. Instead, he feels like he's about to throw up again.

“We have evidence proving the child is, in fact, legitimate. We've done our research for the past eighteen years, ever since the Cleansers’ plan to wipe out the Dark Mystics was foiled. That child is the reason they went through with their plan in the first place.”

“Where's your source?” Nathalie pipes up. There is an awkward drawn out silence.

“You know I can't disclose that information—”

“Oh bullshit, Colleen!” Mario shouts. “All you want is for me and Nathalie to rejoin the High Arc so that our children can become mindless warriors for a group of bloodthirsty supremacists! You have nothing on this Warlock! None of you do! If you did, you would've found them already!”

“I think it would be best if you left, Colleen,” Nathalie says sternly. She doesn't leave any room open to let it be a suggestion.

“You two are making a very big mistake,” Colleen murmurs.

“No. You made a mistake coming into our home and trying to blackmail and threaten us into rejoining the High Arc. Our family wants nothing to do with any of you. We made that very clear when we left. I knew asking for your help was a lost cause. So please, do me a favor, Mrs. Whitlock, and get the hell out of my house.” There is a deafening silence between the three Mystics before someone clears their throat.

“Well, if that's how you truly feel—” Colleen’s voice trails off before saying anything else.

“Yes. It is. Now get out.”

Sid slowly backs away from the conversation he has overheard. He swiftly turns around and runs up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He makes it up to the top of the stairs and bolts into his room, closing the door quietly. He doesn't realize how violently his hands are shaking until he tries to take off his suit jacket. His whole body feels uncomfortably hot. He can feel his stomach twisting horribly until he has to hunch over the toilet and empty whatever is left over out of him. He can barely keep his eyes in focus. He's all but tearing his clothes off of him as he stumbles to the shower to turn on the shower head. He sets it on the coldest temperature he can manage and twists his wrist to lock the bathroom door. He glances in the mirror and sees his demonic eyes and skin and tears his gaze away. He hops in the shower with his boxer briefs still on, sliding down the tile wall and letting the freezing cold water beat against his skin. The icy shower is the only way to single out the tears sliding down his cheeks. Silent sobs wrack his whole body.

They know he exists. They're going to find him. Mario and Nathalie are going to end up in the Low Courts for this. The kids will lose their parents. He may end up being a weapon of sorts or even end up dead. Thoughts run through Sid’s mind all at once, repeating themselves over and over and over again. They are relentless. He knows that the fallout is near. Everything will explode. It will all end in tragedy, and he knows it. He tries not to imagine his billet family’s demise, but the visions are too vivid to ignore. Sid is all over

He needs to get out of here—out of this house, out of Pittsburgh, out of this country. Sid is not going to let Mario and Nathalie risk their lives for him like this. He—

“Sid?” a male voice calls softly from behind the bathroom door. That has to be Mario. Mario must've figured out that Sid was home and had gone looking for him. “Sid? Are you in there?” Sid sniffles loudly and clears his throat.

“Yeah,” he calls back hoarsely. “I'm fine. Just—getting ready for bed.” Mario sighs from behind the door.

“Sid—please let me in.” His captain sounds desperate enough that Sid swishes his hand around to unlock the door. Mario immediately opens the bathroom door and stops in front of the shower where Sid is sitting. Sid looks up at Mario and wants to crawl under a rock at Mario’s sympathetic gaze. Mario opens the shower door and turns off the water. Sid’s teeth are chattering as he tries to stand up, but the alcohol still seems to be affecting his movements. Mario is there to catch Sid before he falls over and hits his head in the shower. “Don't worry, kid. I got you.” A warm, fluffy towel is wrapped around Sid’s broad shoulders when he is finally lifted out of the shower and carried into his bedroom. How Mario is able to carry a heavy hockey player like he's the size of a newborn baby, Sid will never know. Maybe it has something to do with the Giant blood? Sid wants nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake up. He curls into himself as he is placed on his bed.

“Sid, you need to drink some Gatorade and sleep. You're drunk.” Sid moans pitifully. Mario helps sit him up against the headboard and forces him to take several sips of his Gatorade. He feels a little better, but his entire body is aching from the anxiety. He really wants to throw up again, but his stomach is probably empty by this point.

“They're gonna find me,” Sid slurs sadly. Tears spring into his eyes again. Sid tries his best to keep them back, but it's too late. Every pent up emotion inside of him is exploding. His magic is starting to act on its own, flying around him in wild sparks of gold and red. “They're gonna find me, and they're gonna kill me.” It's all coming out as a heartbreaking sob, but Mario is right there to help Sid through it. “And then they're gonna send you and Nathalie to prison for helping me. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come here.”

“They're not going to find you,” Mario shushes him gently. He has a hand carding through Sid’s wild hair, and it feels a lot better than Sid thought it would. “Nathalie and I promised to protect you, and we are going to stick by our word. Here, drink.” Sid obediently drinks some more Gatorade. “Sidney, nothing is going to happen to you as long as you are in our care. I gave you my word, remember?” Sid sniffles loudly as he nods. He is trying to stare ahead, but everything looks like a Salvador Dali painting. Hell, the clock on the wall actually looks like it's melting.

“I just don't want you and Nathalie to risk losing everything by helping me,” Sid mumbles.

“Sid, you're not the first Dark Mystic that we've taken in and helped protect from the High Arc, and you most certainly won't be the last. If we didn't think you were worth helping, then we wouldn't have opened up our home to you.” Sid tries to ponder over what Mario is saying, but his head hurts too much. He just wants to sleep.

“Can we have this talk when I’m sober and don't feel like dying?” Sid pouts. Mario laughs.

“That might be best, actually.” Mario rises to his feet and is giving Sid a shirt and dry underwear. “Please tell me that I don't need to dress you.”

“I got it.”

“Good. Drink some more Gatorade before you go to bed.” Sid rolls his eyes.

“Ok, Dad.” Mario chuckles.

“Good night, Sid.”

“Good night, Mario.” Sid remembers hearing the door close, but that seems to be it. He can't even bother to change clothes and crawl under the covers of his bed. He just lies down and, as soon as his head hits the pillow, he blacks out for the night.

The next day at practice, the veterans are being lectured on getting the rookies drunk for their own enjoyment, and the rookies are being lectured on not to do anything the veterans say that involve alcohol of any kind. Sid would think this would be funny if he wasn't the rookie that Mario was talking about. The bright lights and loud, obnoxious players are not helping his hangover, either, and he feels like death has come for him. Mario finally tells Sid to sit out when the rookie can barely stand on his skates without falling over. Gonch has cracked it up to Sid most likely still being drunk from the night before, which is probably true. Sid gladly takes the chirps when he gets to sleep in front of his stall in the locker room.

* * *

No one talks about the incident of the High Arc coming to Pittsburgh to recruit Mario and Nathalie until American Thanksgiving rolls around two weeks later. Nathalie manages to corner Sid in the kitchenette of the loft early that morning and tells Sid that she wants to talk to him. Sid gulps silently and puts down the whisk for his eggs.

“You're not in trouble or anything like that,” Nathalie promises. “I was just hoping we could talk about what happened a couple weeks ago. The night you came home late.” Sid nods slowly and sits at the table with Nathalie. The silence drags on for several more minutes before Nathalie finally begins to speak. “I know that you're worried about me, Mario, and the kids. Mario told me about you hearing the conversation, and I know it's terrifying to think about.” Nathalie gently takes Sid’s much larger hand in hers. “I've seen some of the awful things that the High Arc has done. They're not as holy as people are led to believe. Almost every Mystic knows how corrupt our government is. But you have to understand that Mario and I want nothing more than to keep you safe. You've been living with us for five months, and you are already family. The kids love you. Mario loves you. I love you. You're like the fifth child Mario and I never had. We will do anything for you, and we know that you would do anything for us. I picked up on the protective shield you put around the house last month. You're not the only one who can practice magic around here, Mr. Crosby.” Sid’s cheeks flush pink as he tries to hide his smile. He had done it as a precaution to keep the family safe from outsiders that were not welcome. He never thought about Nathalie noticing, but he guesses that he should have known that she would recognize the spell. Nathalie may not practice magic, but she is very intelligent in the magic department.

“I just want to make sure you guys are all ok,” Sid murmurs. “If anything—anything—happened to you or Mario or the kids—” Sid tries not to let his voice break. Nathalie squeezes his hand comfortingly. “I don't know if I could ever forgive myself if any of you got hurt or killed because of me. And I know that the High Arc is coming down hard on you and Mario, and I just feel that this is the least I can do. I would do more, but—”

“I know.” Sidney cannot believe that this is the family he has been blessed to live with. It feels almost too good to be true. With the life that he has had, he can't begin to fathom what he did to deserve anything like this. Nathalie, almost like she can read Sid’s mind, twists her body to the side and pulls him into a hug. Sid instantly hugs her back and buries his nose into her shoulder. Nathalie’s hugs remind Sid so much of his mother’s hugs, and it only makes him miss his family more. They sit like that for what seems like forever before the pitter patter of bare feet are heard running down the hallway towards Sid’s loft.

“Well,” Sid says without moving, “we can get away from them for only so long.” Nathalie laughs and lets Sidney go. She stands over him and presses a kiss into his unruly curls atop his head.

“Come down in a couple minutes to help peel potatoes, ok?”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

* * *

The rest of the season doesn't go very well in some aspects. Mario has to retire early because of an irregular heartbeat, and they have a really shitty record. One of the major pluses, though, is when Sid hits over 100 points by the end of his rookie NHL season. It's a major accomplishment, one that requires a celebration. The Lemieux's take him to a nice dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in town that is fortunately owned by a Mystic family—Wood Nymphs, Sid remembers. After dinner, Mario takes Sid out to a bar where the rest of his teammates are, and the celebration really begins. Sid steers clear of the clear liquor that everyone else seems to be enjoying, but he does nurse a couple of beers over the first hour. He decides to indulge himself a little since Mario said he was driving home and goes to get himself another beer. He pulls out his wallet to close his tab when someone comes up next to him and says, “That one is on me.”

Sid thinks it's one of his teammates to pay for his alcohol when he turns his head to see someone completely unfamiliar. He should probably be thankful that the girl is good-looking or else Sid would have probably declined some stranger paying for his beer. The woman is about three inches or so shorter than Sid and looks a few years older. She’s beautiful with her pale skin, dark hair, and interested dark brown eyes. The dark red dress definitely helps make her look even more appealing. Her smug smile is attractive, if not a little sexy. Sid has always liked people who are confident in themselves and even a little arrogant. Sid might decide to give her a little bit of a shot. It couldn't hurt.

Which is why Sid is disappointed by the stranger’s craving of sex that he can pick up on without even trying.

“A star like you shouldn't have to pay for your own stuff,” the woman says coolly. She holds out a hand to shake. “The name’s Ruby, by the way.” Sid hesitantly holds his hand out to shake, and Ruby eagerly takes it. Sid tries to come off as inviting and nice, but even that good Canadian boy persona is beginning to crumble after about ten minutes or so of talking to Ruby. Ruby is just—what's the right word? Ruby leans in to Sidney's ear and, without even bothering to ask, nips on Sid’s earlobe. Sid shoves her away with a curse under his breath.

Creep. That's the word Sid was looking for.

“What do you think you're doing!” Sid demands with a shout. Ruby doesn't let the anger in Sid’s voice affect him. Instead, her smirk grows a little wider.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” she asks seductively. “Wanted someone to wrap their pretty little legs around you?” Ruby’s hand grazes up Sid’s inner thigh, and Sid is too frozen to do anything. He tries to channel his emotions into his magic, but nothing is happening. “Give you a good time? Or maybe just take a _bite_ out of you?” At those words, Sid physically shoves Ruby’s hand away from him.

“Get off of me,” Sid growls. “Even if I was looking to get laid, it wouldn't be with you.” He rises to his feet to walk away when Ruby takes a hold of his wrist and reels him back into her body. The seductive glare is gone and replaced with glowing red eyes and fangs. Sid’s breath stops.

“You can't just tease me and leave me here, pretty boy.”

Suddenly, a low growl startles Ruby so much that she jumps back an arm’s distance away from Sid. Sid turns around to see Gonch standing behind him, looking threateningly at the Vampire. “If you know what is good for you,” Gonch sneers, “I recommend you leaving here. He asked you to get away from him, and you don't listen.”

“We were just having fun, old man.” Ruby’s arrogant grin resurfaces, but Sid isn't fooled. The Vampire is nervous, maybe even terrified. “A little foreplay, you know?”

“Forcing someone to do something they don't want is not what many consider fun. I'm not going to say it again: leave. This place does not welcome predators.” Sid is not entirely sure what causes the Vampire to scurry out of the noisy bar, but he thanks Gonch for helping him anyway.

“If you hadn't shown up,” Sid tells him as they walk back to the booth where some of their teammates are, “I don't know what I would've done.”

“Don't mention it, Sid.” Gonch takes a gentle hold of Sid’s elbow and deposits him into an empty booth away from the others and then slips into the seat opposite from him. Sid raises an eyebrow. “Relax, kid. I just need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About what happened back there. Look, I know that you're a Mystic of some kind, and I know that you can conjure up spells. Am I wrong?” Sid’s heart is in his throat, so he just nods slowly. “I'm not going to hurt you or anything like that. It's against my nature. I've noticed things throughout the season. Little things. Nothing big. I know that you were the one who hexed one of those boys from Edmonton the last time we played them. And don't even try to deny it because I saw that stupid smirk on your face when he had to leave the rest of the game.” Sid remembers that game. He was pretty proud of himself there, and that jackass was a dirty player. He had illegally checked two of his teammates and hip-checked Gonch and caused him to land almost headfirst into the ice. A baby hex to force that bastard to break out in hives is the least Sid could've done, revenge wise. Gonch’s voice goes softer and more hesitant. “I've heard the rumors—about you, about your family. Listen, I'm on your side. I hate the High Arc just as much as any other Mystic who doesn't work for them. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want. Just know that you and Mario are not the only Mystics on this team.” Sid smiles small in appreciation. Gonch is a good guy. Sid already knew this when he first met the tall Russian, but speaking to him like this just proves that Gonch is genuine. There isn't a lot of hockey players like him anymore. Sid doesn't say anything about his Warlock status. Gonch could very well change his mind as soon as the truth comes out.

“I'm a Witch” is what Sid says instead of the truth. “The rumors are only partially true, but I don't really like to talk about it.” Gonch nods his head in understanding. “So what are you, exactly?” Gonch chuckles.

“I'm surprised you didn't figure it out,” he answers. “I'm a Werewolf.” Sid’s eyes grow almost comically large.

“Wait, really?” he says excitedly. “That's so cool! I've never personally met a real Werewolf before! I've always heard stories about them, but never actually seen one in person.” Gonch grins.

“Well, I'm here in the flesh. I'm shocked you've never met one before now.”

“Dad wasn't necessarily big on letting me interact with any Dark Mystic kids. He always told me they were ‘too wild’ or something of that nature. He wasn't exactly a fan of Dark Mystics in general.”

“But you are one yourself.”

“He wasn't exactly thrilled when he found out about me. So he pushed me to be around more Humans and Light Mystics than anything.” Gonch grunts and rolls his eyes.

“Not meaning to speak poorly of your father, but some Light Mystics really don't seem to hide their racism or prejudice ways anymore.”

“It's ok. Not a lot of people liked him when he was alive. Sometimes I wonder if Mom would've left him at some point if he hadn't died first.” Gonch blinks incredulously. Sid bites his lip. “Did I say too much?”

“Not at all. Just—surprised at your honesty. It must've been a rough childhood.” Sid shrugs.

“Could've been worse. I did go through a lot, but that was more from the Human World than the Mystic World. Dad never—he never hurt me or anything, contrary to popular belief. He treated Mom, Taylor, and me just fine. I guess Mom just didn't like the fact that Dad would sometimes try to use me as a token kid, y’know? Like—like, saying that because he has a kid that is a Dark Mystic, he can't possibly be racist against Dark Mystics as a whole. That kind of stuff. I didn't really think much of it as a kid, but when he died, I realized how much of a racist he actually was. It didn't settle well with me. So I've been trying to make up for everything he's done. Hell, I even managed to convince my mom to move back to her Water Nymph colony in Nova Scotia after I left for Shattuck. It's been good for her and Taylor to be with their colony. They're happier there.” Gonch smiles sympathetically. Sid laughs sheepishly and ducks his face away from the Werewolf. “Sorry for dumping all of this on you. I've never really talked about any of this with anyone before, not even Mario.”

“It doesn't bother me at all,” Gonch assures the teenager. “I'm always here to listen to any troubles you have—except when your troubles involve your love life and sex life. That is where I draw the line.” Sid laughs loudly at Gonch’s promise but nods his head anyway.

“Thanks, Gonch.” Sid takes another sip of his beer before he decides to change the subject. “I want to know: what's it like being in a Wolf pack? Does it ever get weird having so many people know every single thing about you like that?” Gonch’s smile is gone almost as quickly as Sid blinks. Sid frowns. “Sorry if I upset you. I just—”

“Not your fault,” Gonch murmurs solemnly. He takes a careful swig of his bourbon before speaking again. “Most Werewolves are a part of a pack, but not me. There are no packs in Russia.” Sid makes a puzzled face.

“I thought that Werewolves needed to be in packs? Something about the necessity of having a family to thrive with?” Sid was always taught that Werewolves run in packs for protection and to have a family to depend on.

“You are not wrong there. When the Bolsheviks had the Czar and his family murdered during World War I, they made it law among the Mystics that there will be no Alphas to head packs. The Czar himself was an Alpha, and his family was his pack. After their deaths and the takeover, the Bolsheviks that were Mystics had all Alphas of every pack—even the children—murdered on sight. No mercy. No exceptions.” Sid’s stomach churns.

“How could they do something like that?” he breathes sadly. Gonch’s jaw clenched.

“Power, Sid. It always ends in either money or power. The Bolsheviks were afraid that there would be an Alpha that would rise and take them down. From 1917 to 1991, when the Soviet finally fell, every Alpha that ever presented and was known was taken away. Never seen again. They would take away children as young as eleven or twelve without thinking twice. A friend from my town presented as an Alpha when we were thirteen, and the government came and had him escorted out of the city. No one ever heard from him after that, not even his family. I got lucky because I’m only a Delta.” Sid can see the flash of sadness in his Russian friend’s eyes before it disappears again. Deltas are known to be second in command to Alphas and are just as strong, but they are not the same. A Delta alone has never been known to lead a pack of their own, so Sid can see why Gonch and other Deltas were spared. “Werewolves were terrified to have children during that time, and we became a dying race. Since the fall of the Union, the population has steadily risen again. But ridding our population of Alphas has done more damage to our race than we ever thought possible. Even though Alphas are allowed to be around again, there hasn't been an Alpha that has presented in a long time.” Another sip of Bourbon. “Except one. There is one Alpha in all of Russia.” Sid’s jaw drops.

“How do they know that this Alpha is the only one in the entire country?”

“No one else has presented as an Alpha. He is the only one who is an Alpha through and through. No fooling anyone.”

“Do you know who the Alpha is?”  
  
“I don't know much about him, but I know that he is young, around your age, I think. People want to keep his identity a secret for fear of either the High Arc somehow getting their hands on him or Dark Mystics using him as a pawn to start some kind of revolution. I have a feeling I know who it is, but I don't wish to say it out loud.” Gonch cautiously and discreetly looks around to see if anyone is paying attention to him and Sidney. When he believes the coast is clear, he turns back to Sid. “You never know who is listening around these parts of town. Word travels fast, even if you are on the other side of the ocean.” Sid nods in agreement and finishes his beer.

“Do you think he’ll start a pack of his own?” he asks. Gonch shrugs.

“I would think so, but who knows what the future holds at this point.”

“You don't think someone will force him to have a pack or something? Breed and have more Alphas?”

“It's a good thing you are not in Russia. They would most likely take your idea and make it happen.” Sid swallows down his Adam’s apple. “For that Alpha’s sake, I hope he is in good hands.” Sid stares at his empty bottle thoughtfully.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Sid only stays for an extra twenty minutes or so before he decides to go home. Mario gladly drives them back to the house and lets Sid get some sleep. While lying in bed, Sid tries to process everything that Gonch had told him at the bar, and he can't help it when his mind wanders off to Evgeni Malkin. He has been trying to get useful information on the Russian hockey player to maybe give Mario the upper hand in helping get Malkin to Pittsburgh, but nothing has proven to help the mission in any way. At some point, Sid had given up on his research, especially when it began to affect his sleep and his hockey. He never really forgot about Malkin, though. He still manages to get access to some of Malkin’s hockey tapes and just watch him for hours. The Russian star is immaculate on the ice. Sid can't even begin to imagine what playing with Malkin would be like. He can't imagine what being in the same room as Malkin would be like. He hopes that maybe they will meet one day and become teammates and eventually friends. Having another Mystic on the team that is around his age would be fun. Flower is turning out to be a great companion, despite the fact that he is a very hyperactive Wood Nymph. Sid has grown fond of Flower, though, and he hopes that maybe he can grow fond of Malkin one day as well.

Sid falls asleep with dreams of a future he hopes to have.

* * *

Sid leaves Pittsburgh to visit his mother and his sister while he has time in the off-season. He arrives in Cole Harbour in his new car and is immediately attacked in the form of a hug by Taylor and his mother. “I missed you guys too!” Sid exclaims as they both kiss each of his cheeks. He lets them take a look at the car before they all go inside to their new house. It's a simple cottage by the bay with a little white fence in the front yard and a few seashells scattered decoratively around the porch banister. Sid can feel the magic flying around the house, and it's cozy. It reminds him of his childhood home on the other side of town in some ways. The little touches of Water Nymph magic by Trina and Taylor make the house feel more like a home.

“I like what you've done with the place, Mom,” Sid compliments as he and Trina are sitting on the patio sofa outside, looking out at the bay where Taylor is playing with some of the other Water Nymph children. Trina grins proudly.

“Taylor has done most of the work,” she admits. “Her magic has a mind of its own sometimes. Speaking of which, I noticed that you didn't have your necklace on.” Sid takes a breath.

“Yeah. Manara and another Witch, David, have been helping me learn how to control my powers on my own. They've been a huge help. I feel a lot better not having to wear that thing all the time.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Manara told me not to get rid of it in case someone tries to take it and possess it. It's in my bag upstairs.”

“So you like Pittsburgh?” Sid smiles broadly.

“You don't even know, Mom,” he replies happily. “It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. The team is great. Mario and his family are awesome, and they really seem to like me. The kids were so upset when they realized that I wasn't staying for the whole summer. You would like Max and Army. Oh, Gonch too. Did I tell you that he’s a Werewolf? And Flower, the new goalie, is a Wood Nymph. It's funny when he gets all excited and makes a save. He has to try really hard not to make Lotus flowers spring up out of thin air.” Sid goes on to talk about the rest of the team and how amazing they've been to him and how they treat him really well. They're nothing like some of his old teammates from he was playing youth and peewee hockey. These guys actually look out for him. Sid doesn't mention the Vampire incident because he knows his mother will have an aneurysm and possibly cause a tsunami the size of Alaska. And he definitely leaves out the whole High Arc coming to the Lemieux house incident as well. He just tells Trina all the good things about his first year living in Pittsburgh. He is about to explain the hilarious Snowball Fight Extravaganza with the Lemieux kids from the blizzard back in February when he notices the sudden surge of unreadable emotions spinning around his mother. His grin falters at Trina’s eyes welling up.

“Everything ok?” Sid asks cautiously. Trina sighs shakily and tries her best to wipe her tears away before Sid can see them. “Mom, what's wrong?” Trina sniffles and takes Sid’s hand in hers.

“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” she tries to say in a strong voice. Her words are wobbly, and the tears can't seem to stop. “I’m not upset. I'm—I'm happy.” Trina’s smile quivers, and Sid would say that she's lying if he didn't see the look of pure joy in her weeping eyes. He can hear the gleeful squeals of the Water Nymph children and the dolphins that have since arrived on land to play. “I'm so happy for you, Sidney. I can feel your positive energy, and that is all I want for you. After everything you've been through—you deserve this.” Sid’s nose burns and his vision blurs with unshed tears. He leans over and hugs his mom, and she hugs him back just as tightly. He has missed his mother’s hugs.

That night at dinner, Taylor is telling Sid all about her fellow Water Nymph friends and how she wants to be the leader of Halifax’s Water Nymph colony one day. Trina catches him up on all of the Mystic gossip around Nova Scotia and the Human gossip amongst the hockey club moms. There's not as much animosity toward Sid anymore, thank God, but some parents still speak so poorly of Sid. The words “overrated” and “cheater” get thrown into the trash talk, but Sid has learned to take it all in stride. He's heard a lot worse from Flyers fans.

Sid decides to go for a walk along the coastline alone, clearing his head and preparing himself for the season to come. He has four months before training camp begins, and another month after that is when the preseason starts. He has plenty of time to be with his family and enjoy his summer break. He can stay in Cole Harbour for as long as he wants. He can meet some of Taylor’s friends. He can practice his magic without being constantly watched by anyone with prying eyes. There is no reason for him to not stay here for a couple months. And yet, wants nothing more than to be back in Pittsburgh. Sid misses the Lemieux kids just as much as he has missed Taylor. He misses Nathalie and her cooking and hugs. He misses Mario and his teammates. He needs to give Flower a call and make sure that he made it home all right.

Flower is quickly turning into his closest friend on the team. They're both so close in age, and Flower is fun to be around. He has never met someone brave enough to actually prank any veteran hockey players. Some may argue that it's more stupidity than bravery that motivates Flower, but Sidney doesn't care too much. He has a feeling that Flower doesn't, either. It's nice to have someone be carefree and get him out of his own head for a little while. All of the guys have been great with making him feel like he's one of the guys, not some untouchable hotshot. They do their best to include him in team outings and every day conversations in the locker room or on the ice. He's never had teammates accept him without any problem before, and he wants to milk it up while he can. He even wonders if he could maybe—

_No._

Sid had made a promise to himself years ago that no one would know about him. It's hard enough being a Warlock and not having many people know for fear of the High Arc coming for him. But to tell people about his exclusive interest in men? That could set off a whole different wave of hostility among his teammates. Maybe he could tell Flower, but that might be about it. Mario might not care, either, but Mario is also not his captain or his teammate anymore, just his mentor and his billet father. He can't risk it, though. Someone could overhear and find out. It could get back to the team, and God only knows how they would react. Guys like Sid don't last in the NHL if they are out in the open. Hell, no one like him is open in any sports capacity simply to stay alive. Being out will just give rival teams—and, God forbid, some of his own teammates—an even more solidified reason to hate him. He asks himself all the time why he had to be attracted to men. He's already weird enough.

Sid shakes the negative thoughts away as he sits down in the sand and stares out at the water before him. The full moon’s light shines brightly across the water like a spotlight. Sid wonders what it would be like to not be in the spotlight, to be hidden away and just live in peace and quiet. He wants to play hockey, of course, but being under this hot spotlight in professional sports is not exactly fun. All he has ever wanted was to play hockey. He has never cared about the money or the fame or any of that. He just loves the game and the very few friends he has made since playing. He hopes that he can keep his feelings and his personal life away from the curious snoops that want to know every detail about his life. Maybe he will be able to find a nice man a few years down the road? Get a civil union (hopefully married if same sex marriage goes through one day), adopt a couple of kids, have a dog, live his life quietly and peacefully. It's a vision that Sid has dreamt up from time to time. He sees the way Mario looks at Nathalie and the way Flower’s voice slightly changes when he calls Vero on roadies and wishes her a good night. He desires to have that for himself someday.

Hockey is temporary, but a love like that is once in a lifetime.

* * *

Sidney goes back to Pittsburgh in the middle of June per the request of Mario. Urgent business, not related to hockey. He doesn't bother to ask questions for why he needs to come back to the city so soon. Trina and Taylor are sad that he has to leave, but they seem to understand that this has something to do with the Mystic World. When Sid lands in Pittsburgh, Nathalie and Lauren are the ones picking him up from the airport. The three younger Lemieux kids are either with friends or at summer camp. He wants to ask Nathalie why Lauren is here, but the worried look in her tired eyes is enough to keep him quiet for now. There is plenty of paranoia and a swirl of other emotions surrounding Lauren and Nathalie that has Sid genuinely scared.

Something is wrong.

When they pull into the driveway, Sid notices Mario standing in the entrance way of the house, duffel bag in hand. Sid, Lauren, and Nathalie step out of the car and walk toward Mario. “Do you really have to go?” Lauren asks quietly. Mario’s hard eyes soften as he looks at his oldest daughter. He sighs.

“They need my help,” he replies, and Sid feels like Mario has repeated this answer multiple times. Lauren pulls her father in for a hug, and Mario hugs back immediately. “I’ll come back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, LaLa.” Sid has only ever heard Mario call Lauren that one other time, and it was when they thought his cancer had come back when they found the irregular heartbeat. Sid knows this isn't good. When Mario pulls away, Nathalie hugs him next.

“This is your last mission,” Sid manages to hear her say. “No more after this. Do you hear me, Mario?” Mario squeezes his wife even closer to his body.

“Last time for good,” he murmurs back into her shoulder. Sid feels like he is intruding on something personal, but he just stands there and waits. He is clearly here for a reason. Mario finally lets go of Nathalie and turns to Sid. His captain face is on, and Sid stands up a little straighter out of pure instinct. “I need you here to protect the family while I'm gone.”

“Where are you going?” Sid asks. Mario hesitates.

“Remember what I told you to forget about last year? That phone call that I had?” Sid blinks and breathes deeply before nodding.

“Yeah. I remember.” It's really happening. “You're finally bringing Malkin to the States?”

“I'm going to try. I was going to ask if you could come along, but Nathalie said no. So I want you to be in Pittsburgh while I'm gone. Watch the family. Watch the city. There is a lot happening at a very quick succession in the Mystic World, especially here in America. Keep your eyes peeled until I get back. If people figure out where I am, war could ensue.” Sid’s eyes widen.

“War? Why would bringing Malkin to the States cause war?” A large black SUV suddenly pulls in front of the driveway, waiting. Mario sighs exasperatedly.

“There is a lot going on, and I wish I had more time to explain. But I have to go.” He grips Sid’s shoulder. The vulnerable glint in Mario's eyes almost startles Sid. “Please—please take care of my family, Sidney.” Sid gulps and nods his head quickly. Mario hugs him just as tightly as he hugged Nathalie and Lauren before him. Sid hugs back without any hesitation. He watches as Mario pulls away and kisses Nathalie on the lips and Lauren on the forehead before murmuring “I love you” to all three of them. He picks up his bag and walks down the steps and all but runs to the SUV waiting on him. He opens the front passenger door and slides inside. The SUV is already driving away before Mario even has the door closed. Lauren’s bottom lip wobbles as she turns around and sobs into Sid’s chest. Sid holds her closely and lets her cry. Nathalie rests her head on his shoulder. He sees how she is trying not to cry, and he can't help draping his arm around her shoulder. Nathalie finally lets the tears leak from her eyes, and her hair turns a deep gray. The atmosphere around the three of them becomes increasingly cold, but no one bothers to move. When the SUV is completely out of sight, Nathalie turns her head into the joining area between Sid’s neck and shoulder. Sid never lets up his hold.

“He's going to be ok,” Sid promises. “He’ll be back before you know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk of racism and racial supremacy, a character being made uncomfortable after someone hits on him, a character having an anxiety attack while intoxicated, discussion of past violence towards children, and a character's inner monologue about internalized homophobia. If I missed anything, let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the chronological timeline is not exactly correct, but it's for the story. nothing major. warnings at the end of he chapter. comments and kudos are welcome :)
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr if you want at eyeslikeonyx

The days seem to drag on with Mario gone. The younger kids keep asking where their dad is, but the answer is always the same: _Dad is on a business trip. He will be back soon_. No one has heard from him, but Nathalie already knew that was going to happen. Mario once worked to rescue Mystics from violent and tyrannical colonies and countries. He used to do it through the High Arc, but once he and Nathalie left the organization, they both began to work independently, sometimes _pro bono._ Mario retired after Austin was born because of how sick he was as a premature baby. He would do missions once in a while after that, for a friend or a friend of a friend in dire need of Mario’s assistance. This mission to get Evgeni Malkin out of Russia is definitely one of those times where Mario’s intelligence and experience is very much needed. After this, Mario is done. At least, he will be if Nathalie has any say.

Once ten days have passed, Nathalie is on edge. The air conditioner doesn't even need to be turned on since she, Stephanie, Austin, and Alexa are turning the house into an ice box. Their anxiety is through the roof. Sid is freezing his ass off, and he and Lauren are trying their hardest to keep the family sane. Some nights, though, Lauren will come into Sid’s loft and just cry in his arms until she falls asleep. Sid never mentions it, for Nathalie’s sake and for Lauren’s pride. The thirteen year-old is a lot like her father, Sid has noticed. She is very strong, mentally and physically, for her age, but even she has moments where she is teetering on the breaking point.

The night where sixteen days have gone by, Sid is awoken by a soft knock at his door. He twists his wrist and unlocks the door. He is expecting to see Lauren on the other side, but is surprised when Austin is there instead. Sid sits up slowly. “Austin?” he croaks. “Buddy, it’s late. You should be in bed.” He becomes more alarmed when his eyes come into focus and realizes that Austin is crying. Sid’s heart drops. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up. He walks over to Austin and kneels in front of him. “Hey, what's wrong?” Austin sniffles loudly and ducks his head away from Sid.

“I—I had—I had a n-nightmare,” the child wails. Sid watches sadly as Austin tries to sob out some more words. He picks up on the words “Dad” and “dead” and “killed” and immediately gathers the nine year-old into his arms. Sid picks him up and shushes him gently while taking him back to his bed. He tucks Austin into his side when they both get comfortable in bed. Sid doesn't say a word as Austin occasionally hiccups in the midst of his cries, just patiently waiting until the young Snow Fairy has calmed down.

“Your dad is going to come home,” Sid whispers into Austin’s snowy hair. “I promise he is.”

“He's never gone this long,” Austin mumbles. “Not even for hockey.”

“I know, bud, but this is a big thing that he's doing. He's doing the right thing and helping someone who needs him. He's being brave, just like you're being brave.” Austin turns so that his back is facing Sid.

“I'm not brave,” he says firmly. “If I was, then I wouldn't be such a crybaby.” Sid sighs quietly to himself.

“It's ok to cry, Austin. You miss your dad. You're worried about him. That's normal. No one’s going to think you're weak or cowardly just because you miss him and want him home. You're going through a lot right now, so don't feel bad for being upset or scared. I'm scared, too.” Austin slowly wiggles back around to look at Sid. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion.

“You’re scared?”

“Yeah. Scared to death, actually.”

“Why?”

“Well, your dad is like another father to me. He means a lot to me, just like you, your mom, and your sisters mean a lot to me. You guys are my family, and I want you all to be safe. And Mario trusts me to take care of you guys while he's gone. I don't want to let him down. I don't want to let any of you down.” Austin’s bottom lip wobbles as he launches himself at Sid, hugging him soundly. Sid hugs Austin back and holds him as he begins to cry again. The tear stains soak through Sid’s sleepshirt, but he doesn't mind as long as Austin is able to feel better later. “Your dad will be home soon. He's going to do everything he can to come back. He's not a quitter.”

“You promise, Sid?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Austin has only been asleep for all of ten minutes when Lauren’s head peeks inside. She looks on at her brother with concern until Sid gestures for her to come and lie down on his other side. Except Lauren is not alone. Stephanie and Alexa are right behind her, and now Sid has to accommodate all four Lemieux children in his queen-sized bed. He's starting to think that maybe a king wouldn't have been a bad idea. There is a lot of elbows and knees digging into Sid’s stomach and sides until everyone has finally gotten comfortable enough to stop moving. Austin is still tucked into his side, and Lauren is on his other. Stephanie is somehow on top of both Sid and Austin, and Alexa is a curled up ball lying completely on top of Sid. Sid sometimes really hates that he's nice. This is not one of those times.

“I wish Daddy was home,” Stephanie whispers.

“Me too,” Austin agrees.

“Me three” comes from Alexa.

“He’ll be home soon, guys,” Lauren quietly assures them. “He promised he would come back.”

“But what if he doesn't?” Alexa retorts.

“He will,” Austin says like there is no other choice of answers. “Sid and Mom both promised he would come back. Dad is strong. He's gonna come home. He has to.”

“Sid?” Alexa murmurs. Sid hums. “Do you really think Daddy is going to come home?” Sid knows that Mario is tough as nails and still very strong, despite all of his health problems. He's nearly positive that it's because of the Giant bloodline, but he has never bothered to ask. Sid doesn't know exactly how dangerous this mission is, but he remembers what Mario said about how this mission could cause war. Sid knows that Malkin is a Mystic, and he must be one of high importance if Mario had said that war is a likely outcome if he fails. Sid has wondered, since Mario left, if Malkin is the Alpha Werewolf that Gonch was talking about that night at the bar. It would make the most sense. In the hockey tapes that Sid has watched of Malkin, the Russian is a very rough player and is naturally aggressive. He's very strong, too, which is another common trait among Werewolves in general, and even more prominent in Alphas. They are the strongest of their kind, both physically and emotionally. Malkin has all of those traits, so there is a very likely chance that he is the sole Alpha Wolf of Russia. And if that is the case, then Mario has put himself and apparently a whole team of Mystics in direct danger. If they fail, they could face prison—even death.

“He's going to be fine.”

Better to give the kids some hope instead of making their anxiety worse. They need some hope. All of them do.

* * *

A loud crash from outside startles Sid awake. He wasn't even truly sleeping, just dozing as he became a pillow for the kids. Lauren sits up the same time Sid opens his eyes. “What was that?” she whispers.

“I don't know,” Sid replies just as quietly. Car doors are slamming and low, male voices are speaking rapidly between English, French, and another language that Sid vaguely recognizes as Russian.

That has to be Mario.

Sid attempts to pry the children off of him without waking them, but they are all quickly waking up one by one. They keep asking what's wrong when they hear the front door to the house creak open. Sid rises out of the bed and walks over to the door of his loft. The kids are right behind him, and he turns to face them. “All of you need to stay here,” he commands firmly. “No exceptions.” Lauren looks at him stubbornly.

“But—” she begins to say.

“I mean it, Lauren. Keep the kids up here. You understand?” Lauren looks like she's about to argue, but she just closes her mouth and nods. Sid closes the door and locks it with a swish of his wrist. He slowly descends down the steps, his heart thudding heavily against his ribs. The closer he gets to the bottom level of the house, the louder the voices become. He finally makes it to the bottom of the steps and tiptoes into the living room. He is not prepared to see four men, Mario included, kneeling on the ground and hovering over something—or someone.

 _“How bad is it?”_ Mario asks in French.

 _“I wish I knew,”_ another man answers. _“We can't tell unless he turns back into his Human form. And he can't, Mario.”_

_“Damnit, Jagr, that's not what I wanted to hear!”_

_“Well none of us want him to be like this permanently! We need a Witch to fix this!”_

“I can help.” Sid doesn't even hear himself say the words, but he knows it was him, if the surprised looks from the two hockey stars is anything to go by. Two more pairs of eyes turn to look at him, and he immediately concludes that Mario, Jaromir Jagr, Sergei Gonchar, and Alexander Ovechkin are all in the Lemieux household. And none of them look good. Sid magically flicks on a lamp and gasps at all of their conditions. They are all beaten and bloodied, varying in severity, but Mario looks the worst of them all. One eye is completely swollen shut, and blood is trickling from his hairline. All of them have bruises scattered across their arms and faces. “Jesus Christ!” Sid exclaims. “What the hell happened?”

“Long story,” Alex pipes up. “No time to explain. He's hurt. Bad.”

“Who is?” Alex moves out of the way to show the massive, dark brown wolf lying in the middle of the floor, whimpering quietly on its side. Sid can see the matted blood on its shoulder surrounding a gaping hole. He swears under his breath.

“Oh my God.”

“Sidney.” Sid snaps his head to Mario. “Can you help him?” Sid has never done anything like this before. Most of the time, he just uses his magic to tinker around some stuff. Minor spells for everyday things. But this—this is someone's life hanging in the balance.

“I-I can try—”

“Either you can or you can't, Sid,” Mario snaps. “He doesn't have a lot of time.” Sid takes a shaky breath and looks at the wolf again. His eyes are barely open, but Sid can see them clear as day. They're pleading, desperate and tired. He tries to quietly bark out something, and Sid can only translate it into a _please._ A wave of newfound confidence and adrenaline rushes through Sid and he looks at Mario determinedly.

“I can do it.”

“Good,” Gonch chimes. “Now get over here and do something.” Sid obeys and scrambles over to the group. He kneels in front of the wolf’s head and carefully cradles his head in his hands for a few moments to check for any head injuries. When everything is clear, he lies the wolf’s head on his thighs for support. The wolf’s fur is silky smooth amidst all the tangles and knots, and Sid will take his time in getting every knot out when he heals the wolf.

 _If_ he can heal the wolf.

“What can we do to help?” Jagr asks.

“Make sure he stays calm and steady,” Sid commands. “If he starts going crazy, I may have to force him to sleep until I'm through.”

“I don't think that will be a problem,” Alex says to Sid. “He's been like this since we left Helsinki.” Sid furrows his brows at Alex.

“Helsinki?”

“We will explain all of this later,” Mario growls impatiently. “Right now, you need to figure out how to heal him.” Sid clenches his jaw aggravatedly at his mentor.

“Being yelled at isn't going to get us anywhere,” he grits out. “Now everyone just shut up unless I directly ask you a question. Do I make myself clear?” Sid is ninety-nine percent sure that his demon eyes are out in the open because everyone except Mario is looking at him almost fearfully. They all nod their heads silently. “Thank you. Now give me a minute to look at the damage.”

The worst of the wolf’s injuries are in his shoulder and his ribcage. This might not be too difficult to heal. He just needs to check the wolf for internal injuries. A lime green light swirls around the hand that is hovering over the wolf’s shoulder. Sid lets his hand hover over wolf’s ears that are flat against his head and slowly travels all the way down his body. “Nothing significantly damaged internally,” Sid announces with a relief. “It's mostly external, which means we can either watch him closely and let him heal on his own time or somehow get him a blood transfusion as soon as possible and speed up his healing process.”

“The former might be better,” Gonch suggests. “He has not healed much since we found him. His healing factor is moving very slowly, too slow to do any actual healing, and we have no idea why.” Sid nods once.

“Ok, then I'll need my spell book to help quicken his healing factor.”

“Where is it?” Mario asks.

“Upstairs in the loft on my desk. The door is locked because the kids are up there.”

“I'll go get it.”

“Make it fast.”

Mario runs up the stairs as Sid looks over the wolf’s shoulder again. Plenty of muscle and tissue damage has been done. Even if he speeds up the healing process, it could take weeks for the wolf to fully recover. A small healing spell might help a little bit, but this will be a constant process, and Sid’s energy level could drop at any time. He can only go so long before his body gives out on him. He needs to time this—

 _Wait._ What the fuck is _that?_

Sid is tentatively touching around the wound when he spots something moving inside the hole. Sid leans in to take a closer look and almost can't believe what he's seeing. He doesn't want to believe it, but as soon as he illuminates the spot with a white orb in his palm, his suspicions are confirmed.

“Shit.”

“What? What is it?” That's Gonch's voice. Sidney can't bring himself to answer; he just continues to swear as he stares at the moving black blob in the wolf’s shoulder.

“What's wrong?” Jagr demands.

“I thought this kind of magic wasn't around anymore,” Sid mumbles to himself. Fuck, he really needs either Manara or David to get their asses down here and help him out. He doesn't have the time to ask for the advice, though, and he has to make a decision and make it fast.

“Magic can go extinct?” Alex asks slowly, like he isn't hearing Sid correctly.

“Certain practices die out with every generation of Witches, Wizards, and Warlocks,” Sid explains as he lies the wolf’s head on the rug. “This specific form of magic hasn't been around in thousands of years.”

“Someone is reviving old magic?”

“Yes.”

“Is it really possible?”

“It's not impossible, but it's not easy. Practicing this form of magic, though—it should be impossible.”

“And why is that?” Gonch interrogates. Sid looks up at Gonch grimly. He knows that as soon as he says it out loud, then it will become real. There will be no going back on his word.

“This magic’s style belongs exclusively to Warlocks. Witches and Wizards can't handle this kind of power. And it's impossible to reverse unless it's done by another Warlock.”

“So he's fucked is what you're saying?” Jagr sounds panicked. Sid knows that he is going to have to reveal the truth if he is going to save the wolf, whether he wants to or not. There's no use in making them leave because they won't.

“No. He's not.”

Mario has the spell book and is rushing to deposit it into Sid’s hands. “The kids are upstairs with Nathalie,” the older man tells Sid. “Do what you have to do.” Sid nods once. Mario narrows his good eye at the three other men in the room. “What happens in this house stays between us. No one can know what you're about to see.” They all grunt their agreements, and Sid goes to work. He lies the spell book on the ground and flicks his wrist to flip it open. He stops the pages about two-thirds of the way through the giant book and picks it up. He skims through the columns of spells to find what he is looking for until he finally stops on the counterspell that he needs. He looks over at the wolf, who is pitifully gazing at him. Sid curls his lips into his mouth.

“Please don't hate me when I do this,” he begs quietly to the wolf. He turns to Alex. “I might need you guys to hold him down.” Alex raises an eyebrow.

“What are you about to do to him?”

“You're just going to have to trust me on this one, Ovi.” Alex looks skeptically at Sid before leaning over and mumbling something in Russian to the wolf. The wolf moves his eyes to stare at Alex and whines nervously. Alex talks to him a moment longer before he narrows his eyes at Sid.

“Go easy on him. He is still very weak.” Sid nods solemnly at Alex. He puts the book down by his side and places both glowing yellow hands over the wolf’s shoulder. He can see the black blob of the spell moving around the edges of the gash. Sid focuses solely on that before lowering his right hand.

“You're not about to reach into his shoulder, are you?” Jagr squawks. Sid doesn't answer. The silence, sans the wolf’s terrified whimpering, is deafening until Sid’s thumb, index finger, and middle finger are meeting with the inside of the wolf’s shoulder. Sid can feel the blood soaking his fingers as he reaches for the blob that is trying desperately to embed itself deeper into the wolf’s body and avoid Sid's hand. The wolf howls in agony at Sid’s fingers spreading his wound wider. He tries to wiggle away from Sid, but Gonch and Alex hold him down almost immediately. Sid mumbles several soft apologies to the wolf as his fingers continuously move around to grab the blob. Blood is flowing from the hole, and Sid almost doesn't know the difference between the blob and the blood. Alex is trying to whisper comforting things to the wolf in his native tongue, but a pinch to the wrong tendon brings forth the most excruciatingly painful noise from the wolf. Sid pulls his trembling, blood-soaked hand out of the wolf’s shoulder.

“I can't do this,” he groans. “I can't get it out. It's not working. It's causing him too much pain.”

“Hey!” Mario exclaims. Sid’s head snaps to his mentor. Mario looks centered and focused, like he is prepared for an opposing power play unit to come at him full speed. “Calm down, Sid. You can't help him if you're like this. Find your center. Get it together and help get that thing out of him. He's counting on you. We all are.” Sid’s chest heaves with each shallow breath. He closes his eyes and tries to will himself to calm down. Mario is right: Sid has people depending on him. This wolf needs him if he is going to survive the night. Sid breathes out all of his transgressions and finds an equilibrium amongst the inner turmoil and chaos rising inside of him. When he opens his eyes again, he is peering into the wolf’s anxious eyes. The wolf moves his head slowly up and down only once, and it is clear enough of a gesture to give Sid the go-ahead. Sid’s bloody hands are glowing yellow again, and he reaches into the wolf for the moving spell.

Sid’s hand goes even deeper than it had before, and he is beginning to grow concerned about the permanent destruction he is potentially leaving behind. He needs to do this the right way, for the wolf's sake. He maneuvers his fingers to hopefully get away from the bones he is bumping against, and it proves to be a smart move when the pads of his calloused fingers skim across the blob. The little monster almost gets away until Sid finally, finally manages to snag the ends of its form. He can the feel the darkness of the magic hit him like a ton of bricks, and the force of it almost causes him to lose his grip. This magic is on another level of pure evil, a completely different dimension of dark. He needs to get it out of the wolf, and he needs to get it out now.

He begins to pull at the blob while mumbling another spell to give him some leverage. The blob is budging but only barely. The wolf is crying from the agonizing torture of having his shoulder pulled apart even more as Sid tries to pull the magical blob out of him. Sid feels horrible for how much misery he is inflicting on this poor wolf, but this is the only way to save his life. He owes the wolf so many belly rubs and a lot of food for having to do this. Sid is slowly but surely lugging the blob out of the wolf’s injury, but it is proving to be a very difficult task. This magic is stronger than anything Sid has ever encountered. He clenches his jaw fiercely and pulls harder than he ever thought he possibly found when the blob is more than halfway out. With one final tug, the blob is completely out of the wolf. The force of ripping the blob out knocks Sid off-balance, and he falls backwards.

An ear-shattering shriek rattles Sid’s eardrums. It’s too high to come from the wolf, so Sid can only think that it is coming from the very spell that has been torturing the Mystic. Sid looks on in horror as the blob grows and morphs into an almost monstrous form, like a Demon. The room is shaking around him, and the Demon’s blood red eyes stare directly at Sid.

“Sid! Kill the fucking thing!” Mario is shouting at him, but all he can focus on is this Demon looking at him. He finally snaps out of it when the Demon lunges straight for him. He scrambles to his feet and puts up a protection shield in front of him. He uses his other hand to have a blast of red shoot out of his hand and hit the Demon square in the chest. Red is still tearing into the Demon as Sid takes his shield down has a completely different spell in the form of white fly out and rip through the Demon’s face. The screaming from the Demon is unbearable, but Sid just needs to hold on for a few more seconds. He is not going to let this thing live. Not if he can help it.

He gathers as much energy into his magical center and feels the spells growing even stronger in power. The Demon is expanding widely like helium in a balloon with every second. _Just a few more seconds,_ Sid thinks to himself. Every second ticks by almost too slowly until the Demon gives one more shriek and explodes in a bright flash of white. Sid releases the spells and shields his eyes from the blinding blast. Just as quickly as it came, the light has disappeared. Sid slowly lowers his arms and looks around the destruction of the room. Shards of glass from the windows and picture frames are scattered across the floor, and the light bulbs from the lamp are blown out. It looks like a tornado had come through the room, and Sid is going to have to clean this up. Not right now, though, because the room is spinning a little, and Sid really needs to sit down. Alex seems to notice because he is helping guide Sid to one of the couches to sit down on. Sid is completely wiped of all of his energy, not just magical.

“Jesus fuck,” Jagr breathes. “That was fucking intense.”

“I thought Sid was going to accidentally kill us for a moment there,” Gonch grunts. Sid is about to chirp Gonch for that comment when he hears the wolf whimpering on the floor. Sid slowly lowers himself back to the floor and kneels next to the badly injured wolf. He decides that he has just enough energy to cast a couple of healing spells to help ease the pain some. He gently pets some of the wolf’s fur to give him at least a little comfort. He is so focused on getting the spells right that he almost misses the long fur gradually shrinking.

“What's happening to him?” Sid asks Gonch and Alex.

“He's turning back,” Gonch says. “Grab a blanket so I can put it over him.” Alex reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it over the wolf, who is still whimpering and crying from the pain. Several moments pass before the form of the wolf has disappeared and has been replaced by a person. The animalistic sounds are now more human-like. The hair peeking out from the blanket covering the wolf is still fairly long, but it looks more like human hair now. Gonch lowers his head down to talk to the Werewolf under the blanket, a quiet rumbling of Russian that must seem to help with at least calming the Werewolf down. Gonch slowly uncovers the Werewolf’s head and his naked shoulders, and Sid instantly recognizes the droopy brown eyes and messy brown hair of Evgeni Malkin.

Malkin holds on to his forearm to keep his injured shoulder in place and continues to whimper in agony. The poor Werewolf has been through enough as it is. Malkin cautiously watches Sid as the Warlock kneels down beside his head like earlier. They lock eyes, brown looking into solid black. Sid has never seen eyes more beautiful. He wants to see those eyes when they're happy, when they're angry, any emotion possible. He just might be able to, after all, when everything is said and done. At the moment, though, Sid just wants to put Malkin out of his misery, at least for a little while. He slowly reaches his clean hand out to gently touch Malkin’s forehead with his fingertips. A moment passes before the fight completely leaves Malkin’s body and his eyes flutter closed.

“What did you just do to him?” Alex snarls harshly. Sid doesn't look up from Malkin’s now peacefully sleeping face.

“He needs to sleep. He’s exhausted and his body needs some time to try and heal on its own. I’ll check on him in the morning to make sure his wounds don't get infected and that he's healing properly. There's nothing else I can do at the moment.” Sid finally lifts his head to see all four men staring down at him in bewilderment. Alex doesn't look pleased with him, but Sid can't bring himself to care. He turns to look directly at Mario. “Can we put him in the guest room down here? Taking him upstairs would be difficult, and my magic is too drained to help get him up the steps.” The corner of Mario's mouth twitches into a ghost of a smile.

“That might be the best option,” Mario replies. The five men properly wrap Malkin in two large blankets that Jagr found in the corner of the living room and carefully carry him into the guest room down the hallway, avoiding the glass on the floor and the curious gazes of the children and their mother standing on the stairs. Sid makes sure to hide his face from them as he passes. Jagr pulls back the covers as the other four lie Malkin carefully down on the mattress. Malkin unconsciously turns on his side, curls in on himself, and fists the blanket closer to his body, still sound asleep. Sid’s heart breaks at the sight. Malkin has to be terrified out of his mind. He’s been severely hurt and had a Demon quite literally ripped out of his body. And he watched said Demon get blown up. And then there was all the crap he went through before he ended up at the Lemieux's. Jesus, the Alpha Wolf just can't seem to catch a break lately.

“So you're the Warlock child.”

Sid spins around to look at Gonch, and his teammate looks betrayed. Gonch has his bruised and battered arms crossed over his chest, and the look in his eyes is expressionless. The hurt and the betrayal flying around him, however, is what gives him away.

“Gonch, I—”

“I’ll be back tomorrow to come check on Zhenya.” His words are harsh, and Sid tries not to let it show. He knows that he lied to Gonch, but he had to. He wants to voice his excuses, but Gonch is already turning to Mario. “Call me when he wakes up.” Mario nods once and shakes Gonch’s hand as the Delta Werewolf walks out of the room and out of the house, not once glancing back at Sid or Malkin. Alex claps Sid’s back a couple of times.

“Don’t worry about him,” the Russian says softly. “He is tired and stressed, just like all of us. Your secret is safe, Crosby. Give Gonch time to not be so mad.” Alex’s words help a little, but Sid can't deter the paranoia. Gonch wouldn't tell anyone about Sid being a Warlock. He never said a word about Malkin being the sole Alpha Werewolf of Russia, and Malkin’s life was on the line, as far as Sid can see. Except Warlocks are so much rarer and typically more dangerous than Alpha Wolves. Sid is not of the norm. Warlocks are killed on sight. There is no mercy for them—for him.

“As much as we would all love some sleep,” Jagr speaks up, “I think it's time that we all caught each other up on the fucking shitshow of the past few weeks.” And so they all shuffle into the kitchen, washing their hands of the blood and grime. Mario, Jagr, Alex, and Sid all sit around the kitchen island, each holding a glass of Mario’s very expensive Scotch with the bottle sitting between them all for free refills. They start with the call to make the mission, and Mario provides the narration.

“I had told myself that I was done with all of these missions. I promised Nathalie and my kids that I was retired from that life. Nearly died too many times for Nathalie's liking. But when I got the letter from Evgeni’s father right after the draft last year, I had a feeling that it was about not getting his son to the States fast enough and that we were replacing him. Instead, I'm blindsided by the fact that this kid’s father is writing me a letter asking me to find a way to get Evgeni out of Russia as soon as possible. I thought it was just because of the hockey.” Mario takes a sip. “And then he tells me about Evgeni being a Werewolf, but not just any Werewolf. No—because of course Evgeni Malkin is the only Alpha Wolf in all of Russia. And the nation is on the brink of war because both sides want him. Dark Mystics want him so that they can have him start a pack and eventually take over Russia.”

“Like a Czar?” Sid clarifies.

“Precisely,” Alex grumbles as he, too, takes a swig of his alcohol. “Our people have waited for an Alpha to be born for decades. Now that he is here, there is fighting among those who believe they know what is best for him. All the Omegas ready to be mated with him and the Deltas begging to be his seconds—madness, I tell you. I knew Zhenya was meant to be an Alpha when I met him at World Juniors even before he did. He was not like any Werewolf I had ever met. His aura and intensity separated him from the rest of us. And after he attacked two of my players when they were harassing that Fire Nymph on his team, I knew right then that he was the Alpha.” Sid’s mind flashes back to the first game tapes he had watched of Malkin. He was in awe of Malkin’s playing and his strength, but he was especially entranced by the naturally protective instincts that kicked in after someone hassled his teammate. It was the moment where Sid knew that he wanted to play alongside Malkin. Hopefully, if Malkin's shoulder heals like it's supposed to, then maybe Sid will finally get his chance to play hockey with Malkin. The thought makes his insides feel warm.

“That was when the Dark Mystics realized it, too, I assume?” Jagr is the one who asks. Alex grunts out a reluctant _yes._

“I knew that I was not the only Mystic who knew that Zhenya was the Alpha. Many Mystics own club teams in Russia. Magnitogorsk Metallurg is one of them. They were willing to let Zhenya come play in North America after the lockout until they realized what he was. Then all the threats to extend his contract began, and they did everything that they could to make him stay. They threatened him, his family, his girlfriend—everything and everyone important to his life was threatened at some capacity.” Sid doesn’t let the twinge of disappointment in Malkin having a girlfriend show. “He had no contact with the outside world at some point. The club did everything they could to make Zhenya stay without actually causing bodily harm to anyone—until they did.” Jagr, Mario, and Sid all simultaneously raise their eyebrows at Alex.

“Wait, how do you know?” Mario asks. “I thought that no one had gotten hurt before we got involved?”

“No one hurt, no. You never asked if anyone was dead.”

Sid blinks in surprise. He has always known that Russian hockey players were treated very differently from any other hockey player in the world, and he knows about the subtle threats made against their athletes and their families. But to actually go through with their promises? Sid’s stomach twists viciously at the thought of someone threatening to murder his family if he ever tries to leave a hockey team, much less going through with it.

 _“Mon dieu,”_ Mario whispers.

“How can people be so evil?” Sid laments more to himself than to the group.

“Power and pride are all Russia has,” Alex says monotonously. “You jeopardize that, you pay the price.” He finishes the rest of his glass and refills it.

“Careful, Ovi,” Jagr chirps. “You still have to drive to Washington.” Alex makes a face and drinks the Scotch anyway. Sid shoves his glass away and stands up.

“I'm going to check on Malkin,” he announces and walks out of the kitchen and back into the guest room. He's heard enough to know that things weren't good for Malkin in Russia. He doesn't need to hear the gory details. He leans against the doorframe, watching carefully to make sure Malkin’s breathing is steady and that he doesn't look too uncomfortable. Malkin hasn't moved an inch since the group of hockey players laid him down on the bed. Sid counts that as a win. Malkin is resting.

“Looks sick, doesn't he?”

Sid jumps and whips around to face Mario standing just directly behind him. Sid doesn’t know how long he was standing there staring at Malkin, but he knows that it was long enough. He never heard Alex leave the house or Jagr promising to bring some blood in the morning from his Vampire den for Malkin to help speed up his recovery. All he has focused on is Malkin’s battered, sleeping form. The Werewolf’s long, tangled hair is sweaty and sticking to his forehead, and a large, purple bruise is evident on his hollow cheek. Everything about him looks terribly thin, even under the massive blankets. He looks so small, even for his tall frame.

“When was the last time he ate?” Sid asks just barely above a whisper. Mario huffs equally as quietly behind him.

“I have no clue,” he says. “It's been three days minimum, for sure. That's the last time any of us have eaten. It's most likely been longer than that for Evgeni. He was skin and bone when we finally got to him.” Sid looks back at the Giant.

“Was he really in Helsinki?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The Metallurg team was having training camp up there. We had to track all of the connecting flights to make sure that we got to him at just the right moment. It wasn't easy, but we managed to make it happen.”

“Do you think they know who took him?” Sid wonders aloud. Mario chuckles quietly to himself and gazes at Malkin sleeping begin Sid.

“They're going to do everything they can to get him back.” It's not really an answer, but the answer is implied.

“You're not going to let them take him back, right?” Mario is silent for several long moments.

“Not without prying him from my cold, dead hands. Those bastards will have to kill me before I ever let them take him back to Russia.” Sid glances back at Malkin. He is quickly beginning to feel the same way.

Nathalie, with her impeccable timing, comes downstairs to shoo Mario and Sid out of the guest room so she can help get some clothes on an unconscious Malkin and help wrap up his shoulder since Sid is virtually useless at this point. While she is taking care of the Werewolf, Sid musters up enough magical energy to repair the shattered windows and French glass doors leading outside to the backyard. Not a single piece of glass is left on the floor. There are some minor problems that Sid will have to work on in the morning—more accurately, after looking at the time on his watch, in a few hours. Sid tries to insist on helping fix Mario’s eye, but the Giant just waves Sid off of him and lets Nathalie take him upstairs to see the kids. Sid sighs to the ceiling in utter annoyance. His mentor really is a pain in the ass sometimes. Sid is about to walk upstairs and go back to bed when he hears whimpering come from Malkin’s room. Worried, he quietly steps over to the room to what is wrong. He cracks the door open slightly to see the Alpha pitifully crying into his pillow, his left arm in a sling. Sid’s heart drops as he watches on in dismay. He has no magic left to use because of his bone-deep exhaustion, but maybe he can at least try to comfort Malkin without it.

Sid slowly and carefully opens the door a little wider so he can slip in without causing too much noise. He blindly closes the door behind him and tiptoes toward the bed, trying his best not to awake the Werewolf. Malkin has stress lines all over his face and tear tracks covering his reddened cheeks illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window, and he is muttering continuously in his sleep. Sidney wishes he could understand what Malkin is saying so that he can know how to help him. He is fairly positive that Malkin is having flashbacks about the trauma he has most likely gone through over the past few weeks, maybe even the past few months. He sits himself down on the edge of the fairly large bed and begins to wonder if this is even a good idea. Who knows what Malkin would do if he saw a total stranger sitting over him? He is going to take his chances anyway.

Sid hesitates for several moments before reaching over to tentatively brush Malkin’s long bangs from his forehead. Malkin flinches and Sid is about to pull his hand back when he realizes that Malkin is just moving closer to him, whining for more. Sid takes a relieved breath that he doesn't know he was holding and continues to gently card his fingers through Malkin’s hair. Malkin still has small tears running down his face, but the whimpering is growing quieter and quieter as the time passes. Sid doesn't know how much time has passed until Malkin has gone silent altogether, but it is a relief to see the Alpha Wolf finally get some proper rest. Sid smiles slightly to himself as he removes his hand from Malkin’s silky, brown hair. He moves to stand when a hand reaches out to grab his wrist.

Sid gasps and almost rips his wrist away when he sees those same big, droopy brown eyes stare back at him. The same desperation and misery from earlier is too hard to look away from. The Werewolf murmurs out a foreign word that Sid has heard thrown around the locker room and on the ice and at family skates by all of his Russian teammates and their families.

_Please._

Any protest Sid was about to vocalize dies in the back of his throat as he crawls under the covers into the empty space in the bed next to Malkin. He lies on his side facing the Werewolf who looks visibly more relaxed now that Sid is there. Malkin gazes directly into Sid’s hazel eyes, almost like he is looking right through him. Sid feels exposed all of a sudden, like Malkin can see every secret he is hiding deep inside of him. Sid swallows a breath. The corners of Malkin’s lips turn slightly upward into a smile as he scoots carefully closer to Sid. He winces a couple of times from jostling his shoulder too much. They are just a mere two inches apart now, and Sid’s heart is so close to flying out of his chest and _he really needs to get his shit together._ Malkin blinks sleepily and murmurs something that must be along the lines of _good night_ in his native tongue because his eyes are drifting closed immediately after he says it, his face so close to Sid’s that Sid can feel the Alpha’s breath gently ghosting over his face every few seconds. Sid normally hates sharing a bed for this very reason; and yet, he can't bring himself to move out of the way or to turn around so that his back is facing Malkin. Instead, he just lies there for several more minutes, watching as Malkin sinks deeper and deeper into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Sid was right all those months ago after he first watched Evgeni Malkin's hockey tapes. He knew what would happen if he ever met the Russian star. He knew that these feelings that had long since died in his heart would resurface without warning.

He is completely and royally fucked. And they haven't even played hockey together yet. Fate must really enjoy fucking around with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for a graphic, pseudo-surgical procedure on a shapeshifting character and discussion of mistreatment of a character. message me and let me know if i missed anything :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus fuck, i didn't think i was ever going to get this chapter finished. i had surgery, and i've been recovering from that, and i just started back college, so i'm busy at the moment. hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly as long to post.
> 
> warnings at the end of the chapter. leave comments and kudos! i want to hear what y'all have to say! have a wonderful day! :)

“Are you sure that it was a Warlock who embedded that Demon into Evgeni last night?” David asks carefully over the corded phone. Sid is sitting on an island stool in the kitchen and sighing exasperatedly in response to David’s question. It's currently six in the fucking morning, and Sid has been up since five due to one Evgeni Malkin kicking him out of the bed while dreaming (happily dreaming, thank God). Sid had migrated to the couch and was woken up again, but this time to the shrill sound of the home phone ringing. Apparently, word had gotten out throughout the Mystic World that Malkin had officially escaped Russia and was then promptly outed as the only Alpha Wolf of Russia. The North American packs have been losing their minds for the past few hours. How anyone found out about Malkin in such a quick amount of time is beyond Sid’s comprehension. Sid had to explain the entire Demon ordeal from hours beforehand, and David is not exactly believing him.

“I know it was a Warlock, David,” Sid insists for what seems like the thousandth time. “You said it yourself:  only Warlocks can cast magic like that.”

“Except you're the only Warlock that is alive in our world. There are no others.”

“There has to be. I know for a fact that I never cast a spell that had a Demon be stuffed into an injured Werewolf. That's the work of a Warlock. There is another one here on Earth. That's the only explanation.”

“Then this Warlock has most likely been alive for longer than even Manara, because the past four millennia of Warlocks have all been proven and recorded dead. To make matters worse, this bastard is very powerful. They've had a very long time to perfect their craft.”

“So do you think this Warlock is coming back around for some kind of purpose? I mean, why else would they make themselves known?”

“Well, there’s finally another Warlock who has made it to adulthood for the first time in almost four millennia, Sid.” Sid’s nervous energy is causing the lights the flicker around him, and he has to will himself to stay calm before he busts the light bulbs out again.

“This isn't good, David,” Sid says. “We need to figure who and where that Warlock is.”

“Already working on it. The leaders from the East Coast Covens are all going to New York later tonight for an emergency meeting. A couple of representatives from the High Arc are planning to stop by, too, so keep your distance from me and Manara for the next few days.”

“Are you going?”

“I have to, since I’m the leader of the Philadelphia Coven. After all of the political meetings and such, I'm coming to Pittsburgh to check up on you and your Werewolf, but it might be a while before I can come down there.” Sid is about to make a snappy comment about how Evgeni Malkin is not “his Werewolf,” but David is already pushing the conversation to the side. “I don't want to get into all of that right now. The main thing I need to know is if what you killed last night was actually a Demon.”

“I saw that thing moving around with my own eyes,” Sid swears, thankful for the slight topic change. “And you know how great my eyesight is.”

“It was black, you said?”

“Yeah, like from that really old horror movie.”

 _“The Blob_ is not that old, Sid,” David deadpans.

“It's pretty old. It's from, like, the sixties, I think.”

“That's—that's not—nevermind. You said that the Demon was a blob at first, and then when you pulled it out, it took the form of smoke?”

“Yeah. And it had glowing red eyes. It was shaped like a person, too.”

“Jesus.”

“Do you know what kind of Demon it is?”

“If it's what I think it is, then yes. And I’m really hoping it's not.”

“Why not?” The line is silent for several moments until David sighs into the phone.

“Some Demons are worse than others, despite what Light Mystics and the High Arc say. The Demon you're describing is most likely a Pure Demon.” Sid pales. He's heard about Pure Demons numerous times from David and Manara, his mother, and the Lemieux's. Those motherfuckers are the scariest species of Mystics there are, even worse than Warlocks.

“A Pure Demon?” He hates how his voice comes out as a high-pitched squeak. “B-but—wait, I thought that you couldn't summon a Pure Demon? Don't they kill you if you bring them from the depths of Hell?”

“You're right about both. However, like you said before:  Warlock magic is very different from Witch and Wizard magic. Warlocks, due to being direct offspring of Demons, can summon and possess Demons a lot more easily depending on the type of Demon they are born from. Clearly, you came from a really powerful Demon if that little monster didn't kill you last night.”

The slow padding of bare feet against the kitchen tile floors garners Sid’s attention while in the middle of listening to David’s explanation, and he looks up to see Malkin standing around in his human form. His left arm is awkwardly sitting in its makeshift sling, and his lighter-looking hair sticks up in all directions. He still has Mario’s old Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt and solid black pajama bottoms on, and he looks unbearably pitiful. Sid is about to ask what's wrong when the loud rumbling of Malkin’s stomach answers his question before he can ask.

“Hey, David, I’m going to have to call you back in a little bit. I have a hungry Werewolf to feed.” David startles out a laugh.

“Well, you have fun with that! Don't worry, Sid. We’ll figure out where to go from here. Maybe all this attention on the Alpha Wolf will derive from all the attention from you?”

“Doubt it, but thanks for all your help, David. I owe you one.” They say their goodbyes, and Sid hangs up the phone. When he turns to Malkin, the Werewolf is looking curiously around the kitchen. He seems to be walking around fine, and he doesn't look like he's in too much pain. His healing factor must be working. “You hungry?” Sid asks. The question startles Malkin from his reverie, and he spins quickly on his feet to look at Sid. He looks anxious and slightly confused, and Sid has to mentally slap himself because _fuck, Malkin can’t speak nor understand English._ Sid stands up and walks over to the refrigerator. He swings the double doors open and begins to search for food that Malkin might like for breakfast. He hums to himself as he searches and finally spots the carton of eggs sitting behind the orange juice. He pulls the carton out and opens it to show to Malkin. Malkin’s eyes are almost bugging out of his head and he nods his head quickly. Sid suppresses a grin as he sets the eggs down on the counter by the oven. He takes the milk, cheese, and orange juice out as well before switching over to the freezer. He makes a face at all of the ice cream flavors sitting around and taking up easily more than half of the confined space. Granted, a lot of it is his, but still.

“Red meat, Sid.” Sid turns his head to the right to see Lauren standing in the kitchen, dark, tangly hair a mess on her head and smug grin on her lips like she beat Sid at Mario Kart. Sid and Malkin blink at her. Lauren rolls her eyes. “Werewolves like red meat. Sausage, bacon, steak, _et cetera.”_

“And how do you know that?”

“You do realize that one of my best friends is a Werewolf, right?” Sid has to remind himself that one of Lauren’s classmates, Camille, is an Omega Wolf from the Pittsburgh Pack and only daughter to the Alpha himself. Of course Lauren has a lot more knowledge of Werewolves than Sid does. She's around them all the damn time.

“Red meat?” Sid repeats.

“Red meat.” Sid shrugs and turns back to the freezer. He manages to find a pack of frozen breakfast sausage links and patties. He shows Malkin the packaging, and if Malkin’s growling stomach isn’t any indication of how hungry he is, the high-pitched whine from the back of his throat is a dead giveaway. Sid squeaks out a laugh and puts the meat on the counter. He closes the freezer and grabs two skillets to put on the stove. “You're not going to use your magic?” Lauren asks. Sid frowns.

“I don't have to use my magic for everything.”

“You could show off for him.” Sid’s eyes are going to get stuck in the back of his head one of these days from how much he rolls them.

“It's too early for me to be showing off my magic skills.”

“He seems interested to watch.”

“He doesn't even understand what we’re saying. He doesn't speak English.”

“Those two do not coincide together, and you know it. You can read and listen to French without an issue, but you _suck_ at trying to speak it.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Lauren.” As they're talking, Sid is cracking several eggs in a separate bowl.

“You're not going to ask him how he likes his eggs?” Lauren chirps. “Honestly, Sid, you’re Canadian. You're supposed to be a better host than this.” Sid feels his eyes turn their trademark solid black as he stares coldly at his billet sister. Lauren gives him an unimpressed look. “You know you don't scare me, right?” Sid shifts his eyes back and turns to look at the eggs and prep them to be cooked. Malkin still hasn't made any noise or movements, and Sid shoots him a concerned glance.

“You ok?” he asks tentatively. Malkin locks eyes with him, and Sid concentrates on the Werewolf’s emotions. The pain and hunger are the most prominent, and Sid realizes that Malkin is cradling his arm very closely to his chest. Sid’s heart aches. He slowly approaches Malkin, Lauren’s worried eyes burning into the side of his skull.

“Sid, what are you doing?” she asks quietly. Sid doesn't bother to reply. Malkin is watching him carefully, but he doesn't look afraid. He just sits and waits. Sid points to Malkin’s shoulder and has his other hand in a thumbs down gesture. Malkin seems to get what Sid is trying to ask because he's nodding his head like a pitiful child who just scraped his knee. Sid makes sure that his movements are slow to keep from startling Malkin, and he gingerly covers the Alpha’s bandaged wound with his palm. He focuses his energy on the spell he uses on Malkin. A pale blue glow illuminates for several seconds before dying out again. Sid watches Malkin’s face for any discomfort, but the Alpha Wolf looks much more relaxed than he did before Sid cast his spell. Sid heaves quietly with relief and smiles at Malkin.

“Feel better, Evgeni?” he asks. Malkin’s lips spread into a ghost of a crooked grin and bows his head at Sid once in thanks. Sid swallows down the lump building in his throat. He nods back the same way. They stare at each other for several long moments before Sid finally breaks the eye contact to look at the food, pots, and pans sprawled on the counter. He turns back to Malkin and points to the ingredients. “Food?” Malkin eyes the food for a long second before looking back at Sid and nodding his head quickly. Sid doesn't mean to giggle, but it comes out before he can stop it. His cheeks redden profusely as he turns to the food that Lauren is already beginning to prep for cooking.

“Zhenya.” The unfamiliar voice is deep and hoarse, and Sid seemingly jumps out of his own skin. He and Lauren both whip around to look at Malkin, who just watches them both with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He points a finger at himself and repeats, “Zhenya.” Sid remembers that as the name that Gonch kept calling Malkin the night before. He keeps his breath steady as he tries to pronounce the name. His accent is botched, but Malkin doesn't seem to mind as he nods his head at Sid with approval. Sid feels relieved.

Zhenya it is, then.

By the time breakfast is done cooking, the rest of the Lemieux family is downstairs, and the younger kids are all flocking to Zhenya like seagulls to fish. They try to ask him a million questions a minute—all in English, of course—and Mario has to get them all to calm down and explain that Zhenya doesn't speak the same language that they do. They take the news in stride and begin to pile their plates with food, all while asking _Sid_ too many questions for Sid to keep up with. Everyone migrates to the dining room and take their usual seats, and Zhenya decides to sit to Sid’s left. Sid hates how his whole body hums with pride, but he distracts himself by watching Zhenya attack his food like a madman—with just his mouth. Alexa and Austin are giggling at Zhenya, who stops shoveling food into his mouth to look around at the family. Nathalie covers her mouth with her hand to hide her laugh because Zhenya may or may not have pieces of egg and waffle hanging out of his mouth. Mario laughs heartily and gestures for Zhenya to keep eating. Zhenya slowly stuffs the excess food back into his mouth and begins to chew it and swallow it all, his ears and cheeks crimson.

The family goes back to their regular conversations, and Sid finally asks Mario about his clearly swelled up eye. Mario just waves his hand dismissively at Sid. “Honestly, I've been through a lot worse than this,” he assures the teenager. Sid narrows his eyes at his mentor.

“Doesn't mean that you shouldn't treat your injuries,” he grumbles while stabbing his sausage and eggs and chewing them. Mario rolls his good eye.

“I’ll be fine, kid.”

“But—”

“Don't try to fight him on this one, Sid,” Nathalie chimes in without looking up from her food. “You know that he likes to play down his injuries.”

“Because Daddy is big and strong!” Alexa exclaims while flexing her biceps. The whole family laughs, and even Zhenya chuckles to himself at the youngest Lemieux's antics. The adults and teenagers fall into silence again as the kids chatter away about how happy they are that their dad is home and that they can continue on with their summer plans. Sidney sneaks glances over at Zhenya every so often to make sure that his billet family isn't overwhelming the Werewolf, but Zhenya seems to be doing just fine. He just eats his food, goes back for seconds and eventually thirds, and listens to the kids rattle on.

Then the doorbell rings.

Zhenya is the first one to look up towards the front door, and he squares his shoulders almost immediately. His stony expression causes Sid’s breath to catch in his throat. The Alpha’s dark brown eyes flash red before disappearing again. Stephanie announces that she's going to answer the door before anyone can stop, and Zhenya is hot on her heels. Mario, Sid, and Nathalie all rise simultaneously and watch intensely as Stephanie opens the door for the stranger. Except it's not a stranger.

“Gonch!” Mario exclaims. “I thought you were going to come later?”

“I was,” the Russian deadpans. Stephanie is gently pulled to the side by her father so that Gonch can come in. Zhenya eyes him warily and steps in front of Stephanie and Mario, almost like he's protecting them. Sid is stunned to see Zhenya’s instincts kick in for a family he has only just met. Gonch raises his eyebrows at Zhenya in surprise. He begins speaking to Zhenya in rapid fire Russian, and Zhenya’s deep voice retorts just as quickly. Sid looks at Mario, who subtly shrugs his shoulders at the Warlock. Nathalie takes Stephanie's hand and quickly takes her away so that the four men in the foyer are the only ones left. Mario finally has enough of the spout of Russian and says:

“English, please, Gonch.” Gonch snaps his jaw shut immediately and Zhenya turns around to stare at Mario.

“I was just telling Zhenya of how relieved I am that his shoulder is healing well.” It's an obvious lie, but no one noises any protest. Gonch shifts his eyes to Sid. “He is lucky to even be alive.” Sid can hear the bite in the Werewolf’s words and is about to speak up, but Mario beats him to it.

“Are you here to take Evgeni with you?”

“I'm trying, but he doesn't want to leave just yet.”

“Well, we’re having breakfast, and he seems to be enjoying Sid and Lauren’s cooking. Why don't you come join us?”

“I'll just stop by later. Maybe he’ll have a change of heart by then.” Gonch says something in a curt voice to Zhenya before turning around and walking back outside. Mario gestures for Zhenya and Sid to come back to the dining room, but Sid is already following Gonch outside to the front porch.

“Gonch! Wait up!” Sid calls out to the retreating figure. Gonch stops in front of his car door and slowly turns around. He looks fairly unimpressed when he sees Sid, but he doesn't make a move to leave.

“What do you want, Sid?” His voice is not defensive like it was just moments ago. He just sounds tired, both physically and mentally. Sid takes a deep breath and lets the words work themselves out on their own.

“Look, I'm sorry that I lied to you about being a Warlock. I didn't want to lie to you, but you have to understand:  I'm not just protecting myself here. I have my mom and my little sister to think about. I have the Lemieux's to think about. Do you know how many laws they're breaking just by being on my side? Do you have any idea of what will happen to them if they get caught taking care of me and not reporting me to the High Arc? I'm trying to have as few people know about me as possible. I didn't lie because I don't trust you—far from it, actually. I lied because I was trying to keep you out of this mess.” Sid has to lower his raised voice and look around the empty street before speaking again in a quieter tone. “If the High Arc finds me, I'm as good as dead. My family is as good as dead. I _do_ trust you, Gonch. Really, I do. I was just afraid of the wrong person catching wind of my secret. I don't know who supports the High Arc and who doesn't, so I'm trying to be careful. One wrong move, and it's over. I can't risk that.” Gonch’s frustration slowly morphs into sympathy the further into Sidney’s explanation. Sid doesn't want sympathy; he wants Gonch to understand and respect his choice. “I didn't do any of this out of spite against you. I'm sorry that I never told you the truth. I just wanted to tell you why I did what I did. It had nothing to do with you personally.” Gonch exhales deeply and hangs his head.

“You shouldn't have to apologize,” he finally confesses after several seconds of silence. “I know why you kept your secret. I would have done the same thing in your position. I'm sorry for lashing out at you. You didn't deserve that.” A weight is seemingly lifted off of Sid’s chest and it must show because Gonch is mildly grinning back. “You're a good kid, Sid. Keep your heart in the right place, and you won't have to worry about anything.” Sid silently swallows and nods. Gonch looks like he's about to say something when he turns to look at the front door of the Lemieux house. He cackles at the whimpering noise behind the door. “I see you have a new pseudo-bodyguard.” Sid raises a brow.

“He's not my—”

“Well, he's not scratching at the door and crying like a puppy for me. He doesn't want to leave, at least not right now.”

“It's probably just because I cooked breakfast and he's still hungry.” Gonch hums thoughtfully, like he knows something that Sid doesn’t.

“Maybe so, but I think you need to get back inside before he rips the door off of its hinges.” Sid breathes an airy laugh before agreeing to go back inside. He gives Gonch one last hug before running through the yard and up the steps. He opens the heavy front door to see Zhenya, in his massive Wolf form, sitting patiently in front of Sid. Zhenya’s head comes up to Sid’s shoulder, and his paws have to be bigger than Sidney’s hands. Zhenya’s dark brown coat would look so much better if Sid could convince the Werewolf to get a bath like this. Probably not, but he definitely needs a bath as soon as possible. Sid jerks his head towards the dining room, and Zhenya runs back into the dining room to his spot at the table and eat the rest of his food. Everyone is deafeningly silent when they the Werewolf take his place at the table, Sid bashfully trailing after him and moving the chair out of the way for Zhenya. Zhenya looks around the room and slowly lowers his head to eat his food without any hands or silverware. Austin and Alexa coo at how pretty and gigantic Zhenya is as a Wolf, and they ask Sid and Mario if they can give him a bath since he stinks. Sid has to politely decline on Zhenya’s behalf.

 

The kids are right, though. Zhenya really _does_ stink.

* * *

Instead of Zhenya leaving later that afternoon, Mario and Gonch decide to wait a week so that Sidney can make sure Zhenya’s shoulder is completely healed and to get his weight and strength back to where it was. The Werewolf’s healing factor is working, and he is gaining his weight back like he should. Austin and Alexa manage to somehow convince Zhenya to take a bath in his Wolf form, and it’s really just like giving a bath to any other dog. At least he doesn’t smell like a garbage can anymore. The only issue that Sid seems to notice is that Zhenya’s nightmares are not going away. In fact, they're only getting worse.

The third night Zhenya is there, Sid convinces the Alpha Wolf to sleep upstairs in his loft while Sidney takes the futon. Zhenya agrees to it, and Sid wonders if it's because the bed is more comfortable or because Sid is there with him. Zhenya goes to sleep easily enough, but about an hour and a half into sleeping, his whole body jerks awake after screaming himself back into consciousness. Sid manages to hold Zhenya’s hand and help him breathe through the impending anxiety attack. Zhenya’s deep brown eyes are animalistic at best, and Sidney gulps down any nervous feelings attempting to surface. He knows that Zhenya can't control the trauma he is forced to suffer through. So all Sid can do is help him in any way he can, preferably without his magic.

When Zhenya’s breathing finally sounds more regulated and his eyes have lost their terror, Zhenya slowly looks up at Sid. Sidney can see the shame and exhaustion spark around the Wolf, and his heart breaks.

“You're ok, Zhenya,” Sidney mumbles quietly. “It was just a dream. It wasn't real. You're safe.” Zhenya can't understand most words Sid is saying, but the tension leaves his shoulders anyway. Zhenya takes several deep, rib-expanding breaths and listens to Sid’s voice. Sometimes Sid wonders, in moments like these, if he ever inherited some of her Water Nymph or Siren traits, after all.

Sidney sits up and makes his way to the bathroom. Zhenya whines weakly but doesn't stop him. He doesn't have the energy. Sid soaks a washcloth in hot water and folds it perfectly in his hands before stepping back into the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed and holds the wet cloth out for Zhenya. Curious, Zhenya gently takes it and examines it for only a moment before deciding that it is safe. Sid maneuvers Zhenya to lie on his back and puts the cloth on his forehead, just like what he would do for Taylor and any of the Lemieux kids whenever they're sick or have headaches.

“Sleep,” he whispers. “It's ok. Sleep.” Sid can see Zhenya’s eyes fluttering and decides it's good enough. He rises again and moves back to the futon on the other side of the room when Zhenya whimpers and weakly grazes his fingers over Sid’s forearm. Sid is weak for that look of pure desperation and fear, the same look Zhenya gave him the first night he arrived. Sidney takes his place on the other side of the bed and fixes the cloth on Zhenya’s face before making himself comfortable.

Zhenya gingerly holds Sidney’s palm in his calloused fingertips and scoots ever closer to the Warlock. Sidney feels that he has to draw a line somewhere here—they have only personally known each other for four days, and they don't even remotely speak the same language—but Zhenya is blurring it with an almost mulish determination.

Sidney never bothers to stop him.

The pattern for the following ten nights proceeds as such: Sidney sleeps in the bed with Zhenya every night, less than an arm’s distance away from each other. Every night terror that Zhenya begins to form, Sidney quickly subdues it by talking to him until the dream fades. Sometimes it's only one dream, while other nights are relentless at best. And every morning, when Sidney tries to find a way to talk to Zhenya without having to call Gonch to provide interpretation, he asks what the dreams are about.

Zhenya can never remember.

* * *

Mario and Gonch make the executive decision, two weeks later, to have Zhenya officially move in with Gonch. Zhenya has grown less wary of the older Delta with every day he has come over to check up on Zhenya and give him small, informal English lessons. It helps Sid and Zhenya speak to each other a little better, and Sid also takes Gonch’s advice early on to wake up early with the Alpha and watch morning kids’ programs like _Sesame Street_ with Zhenya as a way to help build up his vocabulary. And Sid may secretly enjoy watching the show himself, but he's not going to admit it.

Almost three weeks of the badgering of English pay off when Zhenya finally gathers his new clothes stuffed messily in a couple of Gonch’s old duffle bags and is standing in front of the car trunk with Sidney. Sid is about to ask if that's everything when Zhenya’s hands grasp his shoulders. Zhenya looks laser focused on Sidney’s face and slowly, carefully, says in a very thick accent:

“Thank you, Sidney.”

Sidney wants to say something back, about how it's not an issue for him helping Zhenya and that he would do it all over again in a heartbeat. He wants to tell him that he wants him to stay here, at Mario’s, that they can make room and have him there with open arms. He doesn't want Zhenya to leave because he has already become accustomed to the Werewolf’s presence, and he really doesn't want to sleep alone in his bed again.

Sidney doesn't say any of that, though. He just nods because he doesn't trust himself to speak and closes his hand over Zhenya's wrist, like any friend would do. Because that's what he and Zhenya are.

Friends.

Sid is about to move away when Zhenya does the unexpected and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. It takes Sidney all of three seconds of shock before slowly wrapping his arms around the Alpha’s waist. He can feel Zhenya’s emotions feeding him warmth and comfort, and Sid asks himself if this is really just his own doing or if this is something that Zhenya is doing on his own. He knows that Alphas have the ability to send positive or negative emotions to their fellow Pack members, but he never thought that they could to it to people outside of that. Zhenya’s warmth is relieving the twisting knots in Sidney’s stomach and easing all of the tension in his muscles.

By the time Zhenya pulls back from him, Sidney’s insides are mush and his heart is full with a newfound contentedness. Zhenya’s smile is a little lopsided, but it doesn’t stop Sid from beaming back. “Is not goodbye, Sidney,” Zhenya says in his slow, thick voice. Sidney could listen to him speak for hours and not do anything else.

“I know,” he replies. “I'll see you later this week.” Zhenya’s grin spreads slowly across his face, and his eyes twinkle with something that Sidney interprets to be hope. A promise. Zhenya finally gets in the car with Gonch and they drive out of the neighborhood, leaving Sidney behind to stand on the sidewalk. Sidney watches the car turn and leave before trekking back into the house. Mario is sitting on the steps, elbows on his knees and thoughtfully gazing just past Sidney's head. Sid sits down next to him, mimicking his pose and sighing longingly.

“I guess I don't have to ask if you and Evgeni get along, do I?” Mario asks. Sid half-smiles but doesn't answer. Mario bumps Sidney’s knee gently with his own. “It’s ok to miss having him live with you, you know?” Sid’s cheeks heat up.

“It’s not a big deal,” Sid says as neutrally as possible. “He’s still here in Pittsburgh. And he’s still a Penguin. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Are you trying to assure me or yourself of that?” Sidney really hates that he can’t hide the blush rapidly darkening his face to an almost crimson color. He doesn’t look at Mario. “Sidney, I don’t care who you choose to have feelings for, male or female. So I want you to listen to what I have to say with an open mind.” Mario takes a deep breath. “You need to be careful. I know that Evgeni wouldn’t intentionally hurt you, but I don’t want to see get your heart broken if the feelings are not reciprocated.” Sid can’t breathe because _fuck, was he really that obvious?_ He has tried to keep his growing feelings for the Russian hockey star at bay, but he should know by now that Mario and Nathalie are a lot smarter than Sid gives them credit for.

Fuck. That means Mario _knows._ He _knows_ about Sid’s attraction to men. With the way Mario is acting now, Sid can’t decide if he should be terrified or relieved. Mario seems to read him fairly well, though, since he is smiling genuinely at Sidney.

“H-how did you—” Sidney tries to find the right words to say, but he’s stumped. He has no idea what to think or do at the moment. All he’s capable of is listening to Mario speak.

“It doesn’t matter how I know, Sid. All that matters now is that I know and I’m here for you. That’s why I’m telling you to be careful with your feelings for Evgeni. I can tell that he cares a lot about you, too, but he’s still adjusting to America. You two don’t really speak the same language—not yet, at least. Be his friend first. Then, if feelings happen to grow—” Mario’s voice trails off to let Sidney fill in the rest of that sentence on his own. Sidney knows that Mario is right. Zhenya has only been in the United States for two weeks, and he is still going through so much as it is. The last thing he needs is to deal with Sid’s growing crush on him. Sid can be Zhenya’s friend.

He can be anything Zhenya needs.

* * *

Before Sid knows it, training camp is here, and he is thrilled to be back on the ice. He greets the new guys and talks to the veterans, who are all ready to get their skates on and go. Sid is so distracted by seeing all of his teammates that he almost doesn’t realize that Gonch and Zhenya aren’t here yet.

Strange.

 _“Mon ami!”_ Sid spins around just in time for Flower to squeeze him in a tight hug. Sid hugs back immediately.

“Hey! How was it being back in Quebec?”

“It was good, but I think my English is a little worse for wear. And I missed Pittsburgh.” They stand in the locker room, and the goalie talks about his Snow Fairy girlfriend, Veroniqué, and the possibility of her finally moving to Pittsburgh with him. Flower is easily Sid’s closest friend on the team, aside from Colby. Flower is also now the only Light Mystic on the team, a Wood Nymph with a special knack for—no surprise—flowers. It's funny to watch the goalie try not to let flowers explode around him when he gets a killer save or when he talks about Vero.

“So what did you do this summer?” Flower asks. Sid wants to tell his friend everything that has happened over the past two months, but then that that means he would have to tell Flower about him being a Warlock. That is one conversation that will have to wait. Instead, Sidney shrugs.

“Hung out with Mom and Taylor in their colony back home. Then I came back for training and working out in June.” Flower clicks his tongue at him and shakes his head.

“You need to give yourself a break, man. You're still so young.” Sid is about to chirp him when the locker room goes very quiet. The two young players look around to see if Therrien has arrived yet, but they are both very surprised to see Gonch and a slightly taller, gangly-limbed young man with long brown hair and shy, droopy eyes stand halfway behind him. Sidney’s breath quietly hitches because Zhenya looks really good. He wants to get the Russian’s attention, but Zhenya is too focused on the room full of strangers.

“Everyone, this Evgeni Malkin,” he announces to the team. “The rumors were true about him leaving Russia to come play here, and that is all he wants to say on the matter until he feels comfortable.” Sid wants to pipe up and say hi to Gonch and Zhenya, but Zhenya seems to already be prepared to speak. The Alpha Wolf clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back.

“Hello.” His voice sounds so _confident._ “I’m Evgeni. Call me Geno.” Relief floods Zhenya's eyes when his new teammates form a line to try and talk to him. Sid grins proudly because he knows that Zhenya has been studying rigorously with his new tutor and, according to Gonch, watching kids’ cartoons with their daughter, Natalie. Sidney can tell that Zhenya is adjusting well from the conversations they've had when they meet up.

Zhenya’s face lights up when he sees Sid standing off to the side while the others introduce themselves. Sid beams and waves his hand quickly. He can feel Flower’s eyes burning in the side of his head, and he knows that they're going to have to talk later. Sid doesn't get the chance to talk to Zhenya because Therrien is already coming in and telling the guys to get on the ice. Sid is, of course, the first on the ice behind Flower and the other goalies. Zhenya comes out nearly last, sticking very closely to Gonch. Sid wants to go up to them and say something, but he can tell that Zhenya is getting himself centered. Therrien is already talking to Zhenya and Gonch anyway.

Sidney breaks eye contact when Colby nudges him with his stick. “Hey, what do you think about the new guy? He seems a little intense.” Sid has to hold his tongue because he _knows_ how intense Zhenya can be. He’s seen the tapes. He knows how terrifying and spectacular the Alpha Wolf is on the ice. _And he actually gets to watch in person today._ Sid shrugs instead.

“He and I met earlier this summer when he first came over to the States,” Sid says, which is partially true, but Mario has made him promise not to tell the truth of what really happened for Zhenya’s safety. He can live with that.

“All right, boys!” Therrien shouts over the rink. Everyone turns to look in his direction. “We’re going to do some drills today to get ourselves back into the swing of things. But first, I want Geno here is going to show us some of his Super League moves. Thibault! In the net!” Flower skates over next to Sid and watches as Jocelyn takes his place in the net. Therrien dumps some pucks onto the ground and moves himself out of the way and climbs over the boards with the rest of the team. Gonch skids to a halt in front of Sid and Flower and climbs over to stand on Sid’s other side. He smirks.

“Has he trained at all since he’s gotten here?” Sid asks quietly.

“He couldn’t get on the ice fast enough when they gave him his new skates and stick,” Gonch replies. Sid nods his head understandingly and looks back at Zhenya, who is now twisting his stick in his gloves and looking around at the pucks by his feet.

“Whenever you’re ready, Geno” is all the signal Jocelyn needs squat into position. Geno eyes the goalie for only a split second before slapping a puck right past Jocelyn’s head at lightning speed.

Jocelyn never stood a chance at a save.

Zhenya zooms around the rink and skillfully sends each puck into the back of the net. He’s so fast that sometimes he is just a blur of black. Everyone watches in awe because, as Sid had anticipated, Zhenya is a player of his own class. He is untouchable.

 _"Mon ami,_ you’re staring.”

Flower’s singsong voice stops Sidney’s thinking process, and he has to remember that he’s still at practice. He needs to keep his thoughts at least somewhat clean if he wants to keep himself from being discovered at practice. That would be embarrassing, and it would just fuel the fire for more “Sidney Crosby is hockeysexual” jokes by Colby and Ryan. He already can’t live down the Joe Thornton Incident that started the hockeysexual jokes; this would be much worse to combat from. So Sidney swallows and tries to play off his reddening cheeks as being caused by the cold arena. Flower knows better and leaves a red rose in Sidney’s locker for his troubles.

Practice proceeds like any other practice, and Zhenya is already proving himself to be a very valuable asset to the team. Unfortunately, Gonch has to stop an impending fight between Zhenya and Kris near the end. Ok, so maybe having an Alpha Wolf and a Vampire on the same team may prove to be difficult, but maybe they can work it out. Kris and Gonch get along, so hopefully Zhenya can get along with Kris at some point, too. Sid’s going to have to say something about them clashing, but his brain is running on a constant repeat of _ZhenyaZhenyaZhenya._

He really needs to make a run for it and take a cold shower.

Zhenya catches him at the last minute, though, and Sid just have to brave through the storm until he finally gets home. “Good practice!” Zhenya exclaims happily. His illuminating smile is infectiously cute, and Sidney has to smile back.

“You were incredible out there.” _God. He sounds like a blushing schoolgirl._ Zhenya doesn’t seem to notice.

“Of course. I’m best.” Sid rolls his eyes affectionately and punches Zhenya’s fully healed shoulder.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Zhe— _Geno.”_ Sid manages not to say anything about the corner of Zhenya’s mouth twitching down at the change in nicknames. Zhenya recovers quickly enough, and he excitedly swings back and forth between English and Russian when talking to Sid. Sidney doesn’t really mind the constant language change, even if he can’t keep up with what Zhenya is saying. Well, except for the fact that his hormones are acting against him, and he can’t use his magic because he’s wearing the damn necklace.

_Fuck biology._

Sid rushes through an apology to Zhenya and tells him that he personally really needs a shower right now. Zhenya just waves him off dismissively, and Sid has to hold himself back from whacking Zhenya when the Russian makes some passive comment about Sid smelling like shit. The cold shower helps a little bit, but it’s not enough. He turns down an invitation to hang out with Kris, Colby, and Flower and breaks a couple of traffic laws to get back to the house. No other cars are in the driveway or the garage, and it’s still early enough that no one will be home for another hour or so.

Perfect.

Sidney likes to take his time when it comes to getting himself off, but he doesn’t think he’s going to last very long at all. He goes through his routine, anyway.

Clothes off. Sheets and blankets pulled down. Towel on the bed. Lube by the pillow, just in case.

He takes off his necklace and lies it down on the dresser and casts a soundproofing spell over his loft for good measure. He sprawls out across the mattress and makes himself comfortable. He lightly touches his torso with his fingertips and imagines that his hands are a little bigger and rougher. He moves his hands away and lets this magical ghost of a fantasy he has created touch him instead. Sidney whines low in his throat when the hands slide down to his thighs, purposely missing his dick. In times like these, the magic has a mind of its own and likes to play around with Sid’s mind a little.

Sidney closes his eyes and tries to imagine who the magical hands belong to. Maybe just a faceless man with massive arms that can hold him down, keep him in place, have their way with him. A deep voice whispering unholy things in the shell of his ear. One hand coming up and pinning both of his wrists to the pillow above his head. Deep, dark brown eyes staring back at him. A low growl tearing through his throat and his canines gleaming in the low glow of the sliver of light shining through the curtains.

The hands feel just a little softer now, and the arms may not be as big, but they are even stronger somehow. The eyes are animalistic but familiar. One hand squeezes his wrists while the other hand teases the head of Sidney’s dick mercilessly. Sidney is writhing on the bed, but he feels his entire body heating up. His face and chest are flushed. Sweat droplets form at his hairline. The hand suddenly grips his shaft firmly, and Sidney wails. The strokes are slow but rough, and Sidney shifts his hips to meet each stroke. His toes curl as his fantasy watches him intensely. No words are said except for Sidney’s whimpering and begging to _go faster, harder, please, I’m almost there._ The fantasy growls, and Sidney’s eyes fly open when he sees the Alpha Wolf’s face in its entirety. Sid gasps and throws his head back.

“Sidney.” Zhenya’s voice is low and rough, and his hand is stroking him faster. It’s enough to tilt Sidney over the edge and moan brokenly when he comes. His vision whites out from the intensity, but the hand just strokes him through his orgasm. When he comes back around and opens his eyes again, the spell is broken and the fantasy is gone. Sidney tries to catch his breath as he stares at the ceiling in wide-eyed horror. _Oh fuck._

He just fantasized about Zhenya jerking him off while holding him down. And he doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

Sidney just thought he was fucked before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a character having post-traumatic nightmares and a character sexually fantasizing about another character (that's at the very end of the chapter if you want to skip over it).
> 
> message me if i miss anything! :)


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